The Winter Formal

He tapped his pen along the edge of the note pad in a slow melodic beat. It was a habit he had acquired quite recently. Whenever he found himself deep in thought or pouring over notes he would start tapping. The pen in his hand following the rhythm of his index finger and thumb. It was like listening to the musings of a conductor about to bring his orchestra to life in beautiful harmony. Except the music never came. Just the slow dull sound. Tap, tap-tap. Tap, tap-tap.

Usually this habit didn’t effect his concentration but tonight there was something off about the beat. Subtle at first then louder, and louder still. He paused gazing up from his notes, pen now motionless in his hand and yet the tapping grew louder. The man was sitting in his office behind a plane mahogany desk. An organized clutter of papers, folders, and forums scattered in front of him. As he took in his surroundings, as if noticing them for the first time that evening, he realized the sound of the off beat tapping was coming from his door. He wasn’t expecting anyone tonight and that alone peeked his curiosity. “Come in.” He said with an air of confidence.

The door swung away from the threshold leaving a pale young man in it’s place. He stepped into the office unsure of him self, questioning if he should even be there. “Ah, Mr. Knowles correct?” The older man addressed his visitor warmly. “I was wondering when you’d come to see me.” Daniel stood there awkwardly only a foot from the open door. “You were?” “Well yes. It’s my job as head counselor to keep an eye out for any students that might seek my assistance.” The older man slowly began the task of putting away his notes and folders slipping them back into his desk drawer for later use. “It’s a little late, and I was just about to leave, but I’m pleased to see you. Please close the door and make your self comfortable.”

The boy looked at the open door as if contemplating his escape route. For a moment he considered just walking out and forgetting any of this happened. However the moment was fleeting. Daniel reluctantly closed the door behind him and took a seat. The older man smiled approvingly at this folding his hands in front of him. “Pleasure to finally meet you Mr. Knowles. I’m Mr. Marquez. How may I help you this evening?” The boy slouched in the chair across from the counselor’ quietly fidgeting with the hem of his sleeve. His eyes focused on the grain of the mahogany desk in an effort to avoid eye contact.

A few stray words muttered from his mouth. “I don’t know.” Marquez was not deterred by this. The warm expression on his features did not waver for even a moment. “That’s ok, you don’t have to know. At least you’re taking a first step and that’s more then most can say.” Marquez took a moment to study Daniel as he noted the time. “I can’t help but notice you’re in your casual clothes. The Winter Formal is tonight. Were you planning to attend?” The boy shook his head. His gaze still focused on the mahogany. “Hm, how are things here at school? Enjoying your classes, made any friends?”

Daniel took in a slow breath. His eyes finally shifting away from the desk. “Uh.. Kind of. I like science, but I hate math..” “Mrs. Harcourt is a great teacher. We’re lucky to have her. Are there any other classes you enjoy? I think I saw your name posted for the Theater Club.” Marquez’s questions were starting to feel more like an interrogation to Daniel. He stroked at the length of his sleeve pinching the fabric between his index and thumb. Marquez took special note of the nervous habit subtly jotting it down on a pad of sticky notes. “Kuzkin is nice…” The boy managed to force the words out in time to avoid the awkward silence.

Switching gears Marquez turned the conversation back to friends. “And what about the other students Mr. Knowles? Have you made any friends?” He thought that over for a moment because he genuinely didn’t know the answer. “Victor I guess.” “Mr. Baleful?” Daniel nodded. “Interesting how do you two know each other?” Something about this didn’t feel natural to Daniel. He didn’t like to talk about himself that often. “He’s my roommate.” The counselor’s expression turned from warm to concerned. “Any trouble with any students?” Daniels body visibly tensed at that. He found it was getting harder to form words. “Brian…” This caught the head counselor off guard. “Mr. Warner? I thought he was a very nice young man. Did something happen between you two?”

“He didn’t like the way I dress. He said I should join Elysian if I want to dress like a… A villain.” Marquez listened intently before offering some words of wisdom. “You’re both still young and you’re going through a lot at this time in your life. More then most young people are at your age. People make mistakes Mr. Knowles but they must learn from them not dwell on them. He’s not the first person to judge a book by it’s cover and he will likely not be the last. Just be patient and If that doesn’t work then ignore him and his opinions. Don’t let anyone tell you who you’re meant to be.” After hearing this the boy seemed to deflate. His body language grew more relaxed and he even stopped fidgeting. Marquez was exceedingly good at his job.

The counselor was glad to see this change in Daniel so he pressed the advantage. “I also seem to recall there was a :Love rehabilitation club formed quite recently. This club helped many students deal with their addiction to the game including Noah Garcia. Whatever mastermind came up with that club has the faculties’ gratitude.” He smiled knowingly at the student. Daniel glanced at the door feeling embarrassed by the praise. “Of course I’ve also been made aware of the efforts made to stop Otaku. It was no easy task and many student’s risked their lives. In the end the city was saved. Not by the Freedom League but by students like you. That’s something to be proud of. You should be celebrating at the winter formal.”

For the first time in a long time Daniel felt good about himself but the moment was fleeting. As soon as the counselor mentioned the winter formal his heart sunk like a rock. “Mr. Knowles why aren’t you going?” His hand moved back to his sleeve instinctively. “No one asked me.” Marquez gave a quiet sigh. “You don’t have to go with anyone, you could meet someone there.” The boy shook his head defiantly this time. “No. I’ve seen Stranger Things. I’m not going to end up like Dustin at the end of season two.” Marquez was slightly taken back by this. “I’m sorry you’ve lost me..” “Dustin got all dressed up. He was full of confidence after helping save the world. He changed his look and he went to the school dance. And he was rejected by everyone. He ended up on the bleachers alone crying his eyes out.” Again the counselor made an audible sigh. “And you think that’s what’s going to happen to you?”

Daniel kicked his feet forward causing the chair to slide back a few inches. He pushed off the arm rests with his palms and stood up. A quiet anger was growing inside of him and he knew it was time for this therapy session to end. “I know it’s not going to happen to me. Because I’m not going!” Marquez remained cool and collective with his hands folded on the desk in front of him. “I understand. You don’t have to go if you don’t want to. No one is saying you have to. But indulge my curiosity if you could Mr. Knowles. If someone did ask you to the formal would you go?” He said nothing. The anger growing inside of him was diminished, replaced by sadness. Marquez saw this and chose his next words carefully. “It’s ok you don’t have to answer if you don’t want to but it might make you feel better to talk about it.” He waited as Daniel stood awkwardly in the middle of his office slowly losing the will to storm out.

The head counselor took another deep breath and asked in as gentle a tone he could muster. “Is there someone you wanted to take?” “Yes.” the boy said quietly. “Could you tell me who?” A tiny spark of anger flickered in the corner of his eye. “It doesn’t matter. She took someone else. She barely knows that I exist.” “Well I’m sure she knows but Mr. Knowles sometimes you have to put in a little effort to be noticed.” With that Daniels fists clinched. He marched to the door and swung it open. His body paused at the threshold as if blocked by some invisible force. Looking back at the counselor he spoke bitterly. “Why aren’t YOU at the winter formal Marquez?” The counselor turned from his desk tapping at his side. For the first time Daniel saw that Mr. Marquez was sitting in a wheel chair. A plaid blanket tucked around his lap. “As you can clearly see I’m not much for dancing these days.” He replied calmly.

Daniel was immediately filled with regret. He swallowed his pride and bowed his head in shame. “I- I’m sorry I didn’t-” “It’s alright Daniel.” Marquez interrupted. It was the first time he had refereed to the student by his first name. “Like I said before we all make mistakes. That’s part of life I’m afraid. I’m sorry for upsetting you, but I’d really like to see you again. There’s more we can talk about. And maybe someday you’ll trust me enough to tell me who she is.” Daniel offered a small nod of agreement. “Good night Mr. Marquez.” “Good night Mr. Knowles.” He watched as the student closed the door behind him. Marquez turned to his desk grabbing the stack of sticky notes. He jotted down the students name and a few quick words. Self loathing, mood swings, lacks confidence, depressed. He thought for a moment rewinding the conversation in his mind. Pen tapping slowly along the edge of the sticky note. Tap, tap-tap. Finally he made one last memo, just two words. Possible trauma. The counselor put away his notes and locked up the office for the night. As he headed home he contemplated Knowles hoping he could help the young man. His finger tip settled at the arm rest of his wheel chair. As he thought on the young student his finger began a slow melodic beat. Tap tap-tap. Tap tap-tap.

The lights in the hallway flickered on as Gabriel Marquez began to turn the corner from the main hallway and head down to his office. It was early, but it was also nearing the holiday season at Claremont. A lot would be happening between now and the New Year. The Winter Formal was coming up, graduating students were applying for colleges, not-graduating students were signing up for the next semester, and there was simply not enough time left in the day anymore.

As the double doors opened in front of him, his head tilted slightly and his eyes narrowed as he noticed someone standing, leaning aginst the wall next to his office door. With a brief pause, he focused his eyes on the blond boy for a moment before nodding with recognition of Mr. Suffolk. Proceeding down the hall, he smiled as the boy turned toward the noise of the doors closing behind Gabriel.

Sorrel inhaled deeply as a smile came across his face. He turned towards Mr. Marquez and bent slightly forward, offering a handshake.

Upon the initiation of the handshake, Sorrel immediately began.

“Good morning, sir. I apologize for troubling you so early this morning, but I have a matter of particular concern and I hoped to be able to speak with you before classes began today.” Sorrel said, his hand over his heart, as if to pledge his apologies.

“I appreciate your consideration, Mr. Suffolk, but it is five o’clock in the morning. Classes don’t begin until eight o’clock.” Gabriel said with a nervous smile as he released Sorrel’s hand.

“Yes, and again, I am so sorry to trouble you. I wasn’t truly expecting you here just yet, but I also did not know when I should expect your arrival. So I thought it best to show up at four o’clock in the morning, when I wouldn’t expect you to be here, and just wait patiently.” he said with another slight bow.

“Well, we are both here now. Come in and sit down and we can discuss whatever it is that brings you here.” Gabriel said as he opened the office door.

“Again, I must apologize. You see, as I did not expect anyone here I did take the liberty of brewing a pot of coffee in the Faculty Lounge. I know that students are not permitted there, but it was half-past four and I did not expect anyone to be here so soon. It would be inconsiderate to leave most of a pot unattended without leaving a note that it was made fresh this morning. It would be a waste to have it thrown out.” Sorrel said as he nervously turned across the hallway. “I will be just one solitary moment. Would you like a cup, sir?” he continued.

The young man was gone through the door before his last word finished and Gabriel shook his head as he began to get situated at his desk.

“It is my own that I brought from home, you see, so I only used the school’s water and one filter out of turn.” Sorrel said as he turned the corner back into the office, two cups of coffee in hand. “Unsure if you took sugar or cream, I brought both” he continues, removing individually packaged versions of both from his jacket pocket.

“We don’t have these in the lounge.” Gabriel began.

Sorrel immediately responded, “Yes, again, I had no intention of using any school property intended for the faculty out of turn.”

“Well, O…k… then.” Marquez said as he opened a still chilled pouch of creamer. He gave a slight shrug and shake of the head before continuing, “So, Mr. Suffolk, what is it that brings you here today. Looking forward to next semester already? From the looks of it, you are doing quite well so far this year.”

“Unfortunately, no. This is an issue of more personal significance. This is about my powers.” He trailed off at the end, growing a touch quieter as his gaze dropped to Mr. Marquez’s desk.

Mr. Marquez stared back at the young man for a moment. For the most part, the faculty was aware of students’ powers, but Mr. Suffolk was a slightly differnet case. His powers were, for a long while, unknown. Aside from the teleportation incident at the Science fair a month or so back, no one from the faculty had really witnessed Sorrel’s powers or even knew much about what his true capability was.

“Okay. Okay, so tell me a little more about what is going on. Is this a new power or is one of your others acting up?” Gabriel said, a look of concern in his eyes.

“Oh no, nothing new, and not really acting up. It’s just the same as it has always been. I just need some help.” he said nervously. “You see, I have been working with Ms. Cruz on honing one of my powers. You see, I tend to make some people uncomfortable regardless of my intention. It is simply something that is a part of me, but I want to be able to control it, to focus it, and to be able to spend a moment outside of my home without having to constantly worry about who may have just walked up behind me, or behind someone else, or on the other side of a display.”

Sorrel released his protection from Marquez for a moment and waited until the counselor bristled a bit, the hair on his arms visibly standing on end. Immediately releasing the effect from Marquez, he continued “So as you can see, it makes life a living hell and basically keeps me from being able to relax, which for a fifteen year old, is pretty terrible, as you can imagine.”

“Okay, so how are things going with Ms. Cruz?” Marques replied.

“That’s the thing. She’s hooked on the game. And that game and what it is doing scares me. It scares me to the point that I can’t bring myself to work on this with her anymore right now because I know that what we work on is going straight to Otaku.” Sorrel’s tone had grown stronger and more intense. “How am I supposed to stop him if he knows everything that I have up my sleeve, you know?” Sorrel continued. “Look, I know that you have been helping out Aaron with his poor luck around electronics and was just hoping that maybe you could help me out as well. I can go over everything that Nina and myself have been able to accomplish so far and maybe, just maybe, we can beat this son of a-. Well, you understand.”

“Okay. Okay. I’ll see what I can do. Just never do that around me again.”

“6,402 anomalies detected.”
Brian turned from the workstation, fuming. It ate at him, that something looking for redemption could be so ill-used, turned upon itself and others. The plan in the short term was simple: free the bot, fix the bot, get the bot to help. He knew it had information that would be useful in taking down Otaku. If he could just get the blasted cpu to boot up.
“4,756 anomalies detected.”
Otaku. Every time he thought about him. Every time he thought about how he had vouched for him. Standing between him and the Freedom League, no less. It made him sick. He could barely look at the bot’s face as he soldered pieces of it back together.
“2,237 anomalies detected.”
Brian sighed, and rubbed his eyes. Some of the others thought he was crazy for trying to fix it. In a way, it was fixing his own mistakes. He should have known that the villain was still a villain. When he caught up with Otaku…. Well, he was of two minds about it. He wanted to free the innocent people trapped by Otaku’s programming, bring him in, throw him behind bars.
“48 anomalies detected.”
But the voice of his father, so quietly, whispered for him to destroy his enemy so he could not rise again.
“Reconstruction complete. Boot process enabled.”
Brian shook the thought off, consigning it to the past, and turned back to the workstation.

Nina Visits the Principal's Office

Of course Schism could’ve teleported there, but she needed to burn some energy and slam some doors before she got to Principal Summers. Her gray skin flushed darker with rage as she went over the humiliations Bobby had apparently undergone with these low-life sacks of sh*t Krewe, and her stomach clenched as she recalled Casanova’s descriptions of Reggie’s wounds after he was retrieved from the bomb detonation site. She just missed seeing him in the infirmary, and Bobby was nowhere to be found in any of his usual haunts.

>>"They’re destroying us. Mind, body, and soul"<<

“What was that, Nina?”

“Nothing, Nurse Joy. Just a traditional prayer in my native language for the wellbeing of all.”

“Oh! That’s very nice of you.”

Schism nicely slammed open the door to the head office, semi-aware that she could do that only because he allowed her to.

“Hello, Nina.”

“WHERE. IS. BOBBY.”

“Nina—“

“Yeah, I KNOW. HE MESSED UP ANDWASSEEN BY THEPUBLIC. Strung up on a billboard. What an embarrassment to the school, is that it? He’s not in detention, so what did you do to him? Did you send him home? Did you expel him? Because I swear by the janitor’s cat, if you did I WILLSHOWYOUEXACTLYWHATKIND OF SCENE—”

“NINA SIMONEWAUGHNER.”

“WHAT?!”

“He’s on a secret mission with Reggie and few others. An extremely important one that’s going to be dealing with Otaku directly. I have every faith in his abilities, and Reggie’s – before you start in about him, yes, I know he was badly injured – to accomplish this mission.”

“Oh.”

“Yes.”

“I’m uh…I’m sorry for shouting at you like that, sir.”

“You’re furious and worried. I can understand that. But if you want to ultimately lead a revolution to free your home world from control that, yes, is very similar in some ways to what we’re facing here, then you’re going to have to learn how to channel that fear and anger in productive ways.”

“Oh. You, uh, know about that. Of course you do. Why then…why wasn’t I chosen to go with them, sir?”

“Do you think you’re in a stable enough state to control yourself in the face of Otaku?”

“You think Bobby is?”

“I think he’s got reserves in him he needs to see grow and develop, and I think not having you there as a crutch to save him from failure will help him take what he’s learned and shine through on his own.”

“Yes, sir.”

“You have a different path, Nina. Would you like to channel some of that rage and help protect all your friends? Including Rave…and Rant?”

Schism flushed dark again, then thought, then nodded.

“No true leader can skip their time in the trenches. I’m not going to tell you any more than that. Dismissed, Schism.”

It’s so obvious now. Obvious to everyone. All my friends. The teachers. The Krewe. Even my family saw what a useless freak I am all over the news. Mom keeps texting but I’m not reading them.

I’m just not strong enough to be a hero. It was such a stupid dream, anyway. Dad worked with real heroes, not pathetic losers like me. He wouldn’t have wasted ten seconds on someone like me. Not like he ever did before"

The entry breaks off; the blank page beneath that point is covered in tiny circles of rumpled area, slightly darker than the surroundings.

On the next page, another entry, identically titled, begins.

“Nothing is going right. EVERYTHING is screwed. Shadow is pissed over I don’t even know what, and it’s the scary kind. I keep thinking I see her out of the corner of my eyes in the hallways, but when I look, she’s never there. I think she’s been missing class. I don’t know what’s up with that. She won’t talk to me.

We got beat, bad, last week by the Krewe. I should have gone with Noah. I was useless against those guys. They just. . . they just stomped me. And not even just them. One of their stupid guards knocked me out for ten minutes. I don’t even think it was a lucky shot. I am just that worthless.

So once again, someone else has to come to the rescue. This time it was Warlock. He’s a good dude, even if he’s all goofy for glowsticks. I hear that Lady Hulk helped out, too. Really, everyone did, including MC and Drake Knight aka. Predator. Hell, if it wasn’t for all of them, I’d probably be dead, and thanks to me, their mission got so screwed up and the whole city found out about what we were doing.

I’m all over the news. I’m probably getting expelled any minute now. Maybe this is my last entry in you, New Journal. I bet the school won’t let me keep you, now that Dark Victory added that DNA lock to you. Can’t let that kinda tech out with just some normal useless kid.

I think maybe it’s time to stop lying to myself about what I am. And probably time to stop lying to everyone else, too. They may as well get to know the real me. It’ll be even easier for everyone to laugh at.

Yeah. I think maybe I’ll get everyone together. Everyone who I guess cared. Schism. MC. Spectra. Deaglan. Checkmate. I’ll tell them all the whole thing, and then I’ll be gone and out of their lives forever. They’ll all be better off without—

Crap, I’m getting called to the principal’s office right now. I guess I don’t even get to say goodbye to everyone. This is it. The end."

Helloooooo Nurse!

“Good morning, Reggie! Did you…uh…were you too bored through the night?” Nurse Joy walked into the infirmary carrying Reggie’s standard breakfast. A ten stack of flap jacks, a few links of sausage, four hard boiled eggs, and a green smoothie. She was all smiles with her long red hair done up in a high ponytail that somehow made her seem even more perky this early in the morning.

“Nah. The guys from the Culture Club brought me Blu-rays. It’s been awhile since i watched the Back to the Future Trilogy.” Reggie was laid up in the inclined infirmary bed. His chest and left limbs were wrapped in gauze and bandages. The burns on his head were already healing, but his hair was going to need some work. Maybe B.B. could help with that.

“OH! Three is my favorite by far. I love a good western.” She set the tray on Reggie’s lap brushing his cheek with her ponytail as she got back up. Reggie blushed right as Charlene walked in.

“Well it’s good to see you’re so comfortable,” she said with her arms crossed in the doorway.

Nurse Joy pat Reggie on the head and turned to leave. “I’ll just go log your meal. I’ll be back in a bit for your vitals.

“Heeeeeey Charlene. What’re you doing here?” Reggie said nervously as he began eating.

“What am I doing here? Twice, Reggie. Twice you’ve almost blown yourself up this month. What the heck?” She walked over to the bed and stopped a couple feet away, awkwardly. Her containment suit rustled as she shifted her feet.

He thought to himself “Your under the control of that dang game that’s gonna to erase humanity still. Why are you even here? Is this just Doc Otaku checking up on me again? Was this an order? Feh. You’ve avoided me all year; ever since the dance last year. Why now?”

He said, “I’m fine. Well I’ll be fine. It’s mostly bruises and a few burns. Burns don’t last long with me.” He was trying not to let Charlene know he noticed her nervousness. Truth be told he was nervous too.

“Reggie…seriously, join the game. You were doing so well, and you’d be so much safer. Everything would just be, I don’t know, better.”

“And there it is,” he thought to himself. “Of course you’re only here for that.”

Just then Charlene put her hand on his and was looking him straight in the eye. “Is she crying?” he thought.

“Please, just promise me you’ll think about it. If you do, something good will happen. I can’t explain…” Her hand suddenly went to her mouth blocking the sounds. “Uh, anyway, I can’t tell you what I, uh, mean, but…” She stopped, and a look of concentration came on her face, like she was listening to something very important. It only lasted for a second, but to Reggie’s mind, the pause stretched on and on. When she looked at him again, the emotion was gone from her face and a bland smile replaced it. “I have to go. There’s a lot to do..”

“Damn you, Otaku…” He thought to himself.

Sebastian walked in then, passing Charlene in the doorway. They nodded to each other and he closed the door behind him.

“Oh great,” Reggie thought.

“Whats up, Reg?” Sebastian turned around with that smug smile he always has. “Trouble with the Missus?”

“Hurr durr, Shields. She’s just ‘following orders’ or whatever.”

“Yeah about that. We’re out of time. The more Otaku takes over, the more drone-like they become. I think that he’s about to make his move in a day or two. We need to fix this. Now. ”

“Otaku’s probably stepping up his plans. We kinda punked him pretty hard last week.”

“Whatever. They’re still jacked in. The human mind can’t handle that loss of thought forever. Brian got me hooked on ethics and psychology stuff, like the jail experiment. There can be real damage if they aren’t freed soon. Next time finish the job, dude.”

Reggie rolled his eyes. “We’re trying,” he thought to himself but said nothing.

“You uhhh…you doin ok? I heard you straight up took a bomb to the face after running on water or something.”

“Empathy? Huh…” Reggie thought to himself.

“I’ll be ok. Being a human star has its perks I guess,” he said out loud.

“Show off.”

“Green isn’t your color, man.”

“Whatever. Rest up, dude. Finish what you guys started.”

“Yeah about that…can you, uh. Can you make me sleep?”

Sebastian cocked an eyebrow.

“Don’t make it weird man. I don’t…can’t sleep anymore. It has its downsides too I guess.

Sebastian got a smug look on his face and cocked a half smile. “Take a nap, Reggie.” Warmth radiated outward as he said it, like it was the most natural thing in the world to just close your eyes and go right to…

MC reveals the tracklist from her upcoming album!

Heroes don’t have to wear capes
What counts is when they make mistakes
They rise, shake off the bruises and scrapes
Try again, and do it better.

You make me want to be a hero too.

Lyrics are so much better ( <3 Zoe )

2) Snap Out of It

This beat is dope AF! I can’t wait for Rave to hear this.

3.) The Harrowing

We can’t escape
These harrowing experiences
They shape us, make us
For better or worse

But the chains that seek to bind us
Can link us. Forged together
So we can be strong

Still need to get Twilight’s opinion. Not sure if it’s going too far with the emo/goth vibe.

4.):Only Love

The silly games we play
all hurt us now and then
no one is keeping score
especially not your friends

they say they beat your level
but it’s only pretend
Just put your screen aside
and see the world your in

Only love
Will set us free
Only love

Different Vocalist? Tel?

“Telemacus is currently under the thrall of :Love and Doc Otaku.” said Leon, looking over her shoulder at the paper.

“Yeah, I know. It sucks. I really wanted to finish this song in time. I thought it might help, ya know, make people realize what was going on, and unistall the app.”

The room was uncomfortably quiet for a moment before DJ Kodiak chimed in. “These songs are really good. Did you think at the start of this year that you would be halfway through an album?”

“Oh yeah sure, she’s working on an album. Have both of you forgotten why we’re here?” snapped Sophia.

“To learn to become heros? I mean, we’ve kind of been doing that with the whole Doc Otaku trying to take over the world thing. It’s not been going super great, but I think we’re doing a okay job. I know that my grades aren’t the greatest, but I’m not failing so…I don’t see why you’re so cranky”

“It’s not just about being a hero. Your parents placed you at Claremont, so you can learn how to control your powers.” interjected Leon

“Yeah, so?”

“So, then what is he doing here?” Sophia pointed.

All eyes fell on the Orca whale, in a bright red tracksuit, lounging on the couch.

“Hype Whale?” he asked, sounding confused.

“What do you mean? He’s hype whale!”

“Why is he here MC?” asked Leon, sounding distressed. “We all serve a purpose. What is his purpose?”

“To…hype…things?”

“Hype Whale!” The whale got up, gave MC a high-five with his flipper, and then disappeared.

“Yes. I know, I mean, I don’t know. They’re flying off, um…”, Aaron whipped his head around, looking skyward for towers, constellations, anything, “…north, I think.” He paused. Silence was an eternity, every time. The voice on the phone piped up. “Right. Everyone else back safe. Quiet. Got it. I’ll go to your office.” There was another interminable silence, then protest. “Look, I’d rather get this over with now than have it hang on my conscience all night. It’s not like either of us are going to sleep until Twilight’s safe. I’d rather know as soon as you do. And I’ll take whatever’s coming to me in the meantime.” Aaron nodded to no one, since it’s not like Mrs. Dugan could see him agree, then hung up. He turned to the rest of the group on the roof. “Get back to campus. Quietly. I’ll keep you posted on Twilight.”

Time could have been crawling, racing, or standing still, Aaron didn’t know. The city passed under him without a second thought. Travel hypnosis must have set in, because the next thing he knew, he was walking through the Admin Building, and still in costume. A shrug and a short incantation brought his street clothes back as he slumped into a chair outside the Vice Principal’s office. When Mrs. Dugan herself arrived, he rose and followed her into the office without a word or eye contact.

Mrs. Dugan, on the phone, was listening intently on what she was being told. “Yes, That’s good news.” She said with a sigh. “A high school prank? Yeah, with everything else going on, that should be a plausible story. Yes… And thanks again detective.”

She hung up the phone, sat down, and looked intently at Aaron for sometime before finally speaking. “Mr. Blake, I at least have some good news, and a little bad news. Twili…Mr. Cooper is safe. It appears that whomever took him wanted to show him off to the world with a warning message. ‘This is what your future heroes looks like!’ He was tied to a billboard, and the news was called to the scene. If I turn on the TV I’m sure we can catch the tail end of the coverage…”

Her glare never left Aaron’s eyes. “The detective on the scene is a friend, and has managed to help spin this as a high school prank taken too far. The police are bringing Mr. Cooper here, as his injuries are minor, and the local hospitals are overrun with what’s going on in the city.”

“Words cannot describe just how angry I am at this time. So I am choosing my words very carefully…” She closes her eyes, takes a deep breath, and returns her gaze to Aaron. “You are a very smart young man, who has earned the trust and admiration of my daughter. As such, I am willing to hear you out. What I want to know is what you hoped to accomplish, why would you take on the most powerful gang in Freedom City, and who set you on this course?”

Aaron breathed a heavy sigh, knowing that no amount of beating around the bush would satisfy Mrs. Dugan. Still, he had to try. “It started earlier today. I hope that you’ll humor me not betraying the trust of my friends just yet. Chances are, you know who I’m talking about without me naming names.” He shifted from reclining back in the pretty comfortable chair to sitting upright, arms leaning gingerly on the desk. She was showing him respect in asking questions, so he owed her the same in responding. “We got a tip from a student in the infirmary. Some of the students were forming a plan to stop ‘Doc Otaku’ (eyeroll) and it would take a multi-headed approach to do it. The Krewe were his muscle, overpowering their rivals and taking control of the streets thanks to Otaku providing them with advanced weapons developed from stolen technology.”

He shrugged and pulled his eyes away from her, darting around the room and ceiling while recounting the evening, avoiding eye contact for too long. “The plan was simple, really: find the Krewe’s headquarters, where they would be keeping the weapon stockpile, and de-claw them. Once they didn’t have that advantage, the other gangs would keep them busy fighting over territory. It was pretty easy to find; when you’re the only name on the street that matters, everyone knows where NOT to go. The building was isolated, abandoned, and the sentries were barely paying attention. Krewe members on the first floor were just hanging out, entertaining themselves. They went down easily enough, though it was obvious from the start that they had some really out-there guns. We were expecting more easy pickings on the third floor, but that wasn’t what we found.” Aaron’s eyes glazed over a bit, face flushed, and his gaze met Mrs. Dugan’s glare. “What was up there, I’d never seen anything like it. Waves of Krewe soldiers, a turbo-junkie, a carnival-sideshow stack of human with a giant hammer, Mister Gadget, and a smooth talker who knew we were coming, and, oh yeah, came back later in a power armor suit. The next minute or so was a blur, but I do recall that we could barely scratch them. They were toying with us. Once Twilight went down, we did as much damage as we could to the weapon crates and then got out of there. I didn’t even see how it happened, but the next thing I know Twilight was flying away from us, which is when I called Bluebird Cassie to call you. Priorities change once you see your friend knocked out and being taken from you.”

A long pause hung in the air. “So that’s pretty much it, and now I’m here.” Aaron looked up from his lap. “Now what?”

Mrs. Dugan sat there for a few moments, processing what Aaron told her, and what she was able to piece together from the police. “Mr. Blake, you have a passion that can’t be denied, but your actions could have resulted in a fellow student being kidnapped…one or more of you could have been seriously hurt or worse. You intentions, although admirable, were hastey at best. This isn’t the Aaron Blake that saved Amelia and all those civilians at the Bayview Mall…”

That last statement helped to noticeably calm her down. “I can’t turn the other way this time. These actions should result in serious disciplinary action, as it stands, you will have plenty of time to reflect on your actions for the next two months in detention.”

Mrs. Dugan’s phone chimes, she picks it up and looks at the message. “There seems to be more good news Mr. Blake. The police have raided the Krewe’s hideout and confiscated what can only be explained as an arsenal. They also arrested several Krewe members and some guy named Torch.”

“Everyone is safe…this time. Go…get some rest”

Aaron nodded, and much to her surprise, smiled as he stood up to leave. “Thank you, Mrs. Dugan. I said I’d take what was coming to me, and I will.” He turned and opened her office door, but paused, looking back. “Someone has to step up when no one else will, right?”

Drums set a beat, occasionally switching to a different meter, but only for a moment, before resuming their previous cadence. They crescendo, and at the apex the melody starts. It’s bright, but still in a minor key. The drums underneath are beating a triple rhythm, creating a juxtaposition with the flowing melody.

We can’t escape
These harrowing experiences
They shape us, make us
For better or worse

But the chains that seek to bind us
Can link us. Forged together
So we can be strong

MC looks at Twilight through the gloom of the chapel. She bites her lip nervously. “So what do you think? I know you’ve had a rough few weeks, and I thought I’d write something…”

She yelps as someone brushes against her. It’s Shadow, standing way too close, a dark expression on her face. “So, um, yeah. I hope you like it. I’m going now…to see Zoe…my girlfriend. I have a girlfriend, and I’m not interested in…just in case you were wondering.” Shadow continued to stare at her and MC started backing away, her hands up in a gesture of peace. “Yeah, okay so, I was never here.” She vanishes, leaving Twilight holding her phone.

2015 July 13
Rei has acquired the remnants of a prototype android. It’s a blending of flesh and robotics that even manages to put some of the work of me, the great DOCOTAKU, to shame. She was cagey on how she got it, which tells me that someone is trying to use me as a cat’s paw. It doesn’t matter. I will take their gifts, and improve upon it. Like a neanderthal offering a gift of fire to homo sapien, they have sealed their doom.

2015 December 3
I managed to capture Cerebrus Rex after his battle with the Freedom League. He was too weak to properly put up a fight, and was easy prey for my minions. Some of his technology is fascinating, especially worlds within worlds.

2016 March 15
Going deeper into the technology, an idea has come to mind. I’ve used my pawns to acquire the creative company of Puzzle Attack Swarm. Adults say that games rot the mind. The fools don’t know how right I’ll make them!

2016 June 6
I’ve built an Otakubot. The parts requires are prohibitively expensive. I’ll only be able to build one more without seriously affecting my cash flow. However, this thing is human to any but the deepest scan, and believes its programming as though they were its own thoughts. Ready player one.

2016 November 30
My assault on Claremont failed to acquire the virtual reality technology I need. The students are more dangerous than I expected. CURSEYOU, NEXTGEN. However, due to how the events unfolded, I have managed to get a mole on the inside. Now, I need to think on my next few steps. This is a game of chess, and one side doesn’t even know they’re playing it.

2017 January 5
Jewel and the Holograms managed to drive off my assault. I managed to get a partial download though. I’m tired of salvaging pyrrhic victories from the jaws of defeat.

2017 October 16
The Krewe failed to acquire Jennifer Hal’s technology. She’s not even a super. Blundering FOOLS! That being said, :Love is going well, and I’ve managed to get some field testing of the iLove. They’re providing me quite a few pieces that I’ve been missing. Soon, I’ll be able to create an army!

2017 November 3
Managed to acquire the VR technology I needed from Claremont, and, test some of their power levels so I don’t lose to them again. Elysian has gotten wise to :Love’s threat and has banned it. It doesn’t matter though, the addictive qualities are already too deeply buried. Even better, I rescued a time travelling AI and have “befriended it.” Apparently, it’s looking for its partner, so that they can merge and become what they were meant to be. I’ve installed some mods to prevent that.

2017 November 12
I managed to get a few more fragments of Jewel’s technology. It isn’t quite what I needed, however, I’ll have to make due. With everything else, Otakuland is a go. Further, I acquired some of Jennifer Hal’s technology. This should allow me to lower the cost on building more Otakubots. My will will infiltrate all.

“Yo, New Journal. I’m about to drop some dark-ass crap on you, so I hope you’ve got your no-run eyeliner on.

Alright, so first of all I guess Doc Otaku hasn’t reformed EVEN A LITTLEBIT and that’s basically the biggest WTF of my life in the last three years, but I guess that’s what you get for trusting people, huh? People just freakin’ drop that crap on you all the time. You think you’ve got a good, happy thing going, and they just betray you, walk out on you, and that’s it. They’re gone, and everything they meant is gone, and you’ve just got NOTHING. That’s what you get for trusting people."

Several lines start and stop suddenly, covered in a thick forest of violent scratch-out marks. The entry continues on the next page.

“Plus, ugh, when we were “fighting” the BeatMaster twins in the mall the other week, some serious crap went down and I was almost out for the count, getting hit by this groady brown note techno beat thing and puking all over everywhere. It was awful. Know what’s even worse, though? DEVONSHOWS UP ANDTRIES TO HELPOUT. That guy has like, literally no sense of boundaries! I’m just at the mall, hanging out with friends and trying to stop supervillains, and this guy’s just still peddling his wanna-be-your-dad crap. GTFO MY LIFE, DEVONYOUIMPOSSIBLECRETIN.

Plus, now, like those Beatmaster wangs are good guys or something? Man, I can’t even keep this crap straight. I just know they’re both superwangs, whether or not they’re villains. Especially cuz they won’t stop treating people I care about like crap. And YEAH, I hear you New Journal. I keep caring about people even WITH stuff like what I said above. I’m an idiot like that, I guess.

And oh man, I haven’t even GOT to how freaking stupid this whole :Love thing is getting now, or how Shadow keeps having these scary freakin dark flashes, or how one of the new kids keeps riding my a—

MC jumped as the door slammed open, looking up from her history notes.

“Hey… “The words died in her throat, as Zoe entered the room, dark clouds gathering over her head. She had such good control over her illusions, so this meant something was very wrong.

“Who is Night Terror?” Zoe asked accusingly.

“Umm…she’s a student at Elysian.”

“No, I mean, who is she to you?”

“I don’t know, I just met her. She was at the food court, during the whole thing with Rant and Rave.”

“Then why is everyone talking about how you were flirting with her?!” The sound thunder and lightning striking echoed around the room.

Flirt? I don’t flirt.

Yes, you do. She heard three voices in unison.

Not helping.

“No, I wasn’t!” She was finding it hard not to get defensive. “She just has this cool power where she could bring us into people’s dreams, and her illusion was really good, and…”

“So what, you have a thing for people who can do illusions? Or is because she’s a bad girl?”

“Woah, Zoe, hang on…”

“I’ve accepted whatever is going on between you and Rave, but this….”

“Rave’s a friend…well sort of.” She stopped, finally realizing what was going on. “Wait, are you jealous?”

“What? No!” The clouds disappeared, and Zoe’s expression became sad. “It’s just, things have been weird between us lately. It makes me think that…Am I not exciting to you anymore? Because, if it’s something wrong with me, I wish you would just tell me.”

MC stood up and grabbed her hands. “There’s nothing wrong with you, it’s me. I know that sounds lame. I just don’t know how to act around you right now, because I screwed up so bad at Halloween. I mean, who wants to confess their feelings in public right? Except it was even worse, because I wasn’t even supposed to see that. I just, was so happy, because I didn’t know if you felt the same way. But now everything is awkward, and I’m afraid that if I mess up one more time I’m going to lose you. And I can’t, because I love you so much. I’m so sorry.”

“Say that again.”

“I’m sorry?”

“No, the other part.”

“I love you.”

Zoe cracked a small smile, wiping her eyes with the back of her hand. “Okay. I’m still mad, so I’m going to go. But you will make this up to me.”

MC stared at the door after she had gone, her hands shaking.

“Holy crap, I actually told her.”

“Do you feel better?” Sophia asked, appearing behind her.

“I feel amazing! I told her and she didn’t run away. Well, she left right now…I have to come up with something epic to do for her. Oh! It’s perfect!”

She reached for her notebook, and started writing furiously, on a page that had several lines already crossed out.

Heroes

Heroes don’t have to wear capes
What counts is when they make mistakes
They rise, shake off the bruises and scrapes
Try again, and do it better.

Where there's a will, there's a Fae.

A hollow knock echoes across the dormitory hall, announcing Deaglan’s arrival to room B14. The telltale BAMF! that accompanied Noah’s sudden appearance at the door brought a wide grin to Deaglan’s face.

“Friend! I was hoping to pester you two! I had questions about my Demons and Delvers character. I, uh, was curious about the templates. Can we use those?”

Noah squinted, levering down the door handle and letting Deaglan in. “Not for this game. You already made your characters! Besides, those add level qualifiers, and that can get a little crazy for a new player. Besides, the party needs their cleric!”

Deaglan not-so-subtly glanced around the room as he stepped in, his eyes settling on Bobby, who was lounging on his bed. “Not even, like, the fiendish template?” He waggled his fingers mysteriously at Noah, before breaking out into theatrical explanation. “A goodly cleric whose humanity is in conflict with a curse most dire!” Deaglan’s fist was clenched before him, striking a dramatic pose.

Noah rolled his eyes. “Okay, Shakespeare, I get it. Maybe it will come up. Maaaaybe.”

Bobby looked up from his mound of inky black comforter, in which he was presently ensconced, scribbling something intently into his journal. “Deaglan, man, you’d kinda be stepping on my character’s toes once he gets the Grimknight Hellvalier Prestige Job at 9th level. Struggling with inner demons is sort of his whole thing, man.”

“You know what, this sounds completely like every other conversation anyone has had with Bobby in the history of ever, so I’m gonna sneak down to the cafeteria to see if Nina managed to forget any ice creams the last time she went rooting around down there. See ya, chums!” BAMF! And with that, Noah was gone and the room descended into a silence even colder than Mint-O-Chunk Coldfever flavored ice cream.

Deaglan watched the spot where Noah previously stood before turning his gaze once more to Bobby. “I thought that was your thing, not your character’s thing. You know, feeling those dark urges and stuff.” Deaglan narrowed his eyes slightly, egging the topic a bit further.

“Speaking of which, how have you been? No urges to, I don’t know,” He paused, attempting to beat around the bush before proceeding to fail miserably. ”Crush and destroy the courts of Avalon?”

“Aw, c’mon man,” said Bobby, flipping a strategically recalcitrant flap of heavily hairsprayed hair out of his eyes. “Twilight Darkness doesn’t wanna do all that crap. He’s just a normal fairy, like you. Well, I mean, not like you, cuz I don’t think his mom’s human. Wait, crap, is ‘fairy’ the right term? That’s not like, a slur or anything, is it?”

“Not that I am aware of… Is it a slur here? That seems-” Deaglan let the thought go, refocusing on the subject of Bobby’s mysterious benefactor. “How do you know he was Fae, and not some dastard of Balor?” His words trailed off as he thought of the subject more. Being made to look like a Fomor was quite a feat of trickery in itself. Deaglan stopped pursuing the thought, not wanting to get off track.

“Look, I just need to be sure. I know Alea said you weren’t tainted with Fomori magic, but I’m struggling to believe that she would just plainly tell me that, given that, well, you know…” He huffed, uncertain that he wanted to get into delicate relation that existed between the courts that, quite frankly, he wasn’t entirely sure of himself.

“I dunno, man. You gotta be sensitive to stuff, ya know? Anyway, I mean, I assumed he was Fae because he was hanging around the court of my previous, uh, ally over there. Calistrato. I think that guy was kind of a big deal, so I figure hey, he’d know of Twilight Darkness was a bad dude, ya know? Calistrato was sort of a lazy, rich, dweeb, sure, but he wasn’t evil.”

Bobby flopped his lanky frame out of the small dorm bed and raised himself up to stand beside Deaglan. He twisted his mouth into a wry smile and shrugged, seemingly bothered by something more. Swallowing the thought, he continued, “Look, I know I wasn’t in a great place, mentally, back then. I was young and stupid and hurt, yeah, and I get that nobody with any power gives it up for nothing. But for now, Twilight Darkness says he just wants people to see how great I can be, and that his standing will increase with my standing. That doesn’t seem too bad, does it?”

Deaglan raised a finger in protest before he realized he wasn’t sure what he was about to protest against. “Uh… Is Twilight of the same court as Calistrato? I only vaguely recall the name, from my father, and he didn’t have kind words for him.”

“Man, all that stuff is pretty complicated, ya know? Seelie that, Winter Court this, head Rage on Dawntide St for sixteen browniesteps the other thing! I can’t keep it all straight!” Bobby looked at Deaglan sharply. “Look, I’m not gonna haul off and Anakin a bunch of younglings, or whatever. I got my powers from the Fae Realm, same as you. I don’t see what you’re so worried about, man.” Darkness flashed behind the tall youth’s eyes for a moment, then was gone.

Bobby looked down and pulled a buzzing phone from out of his pocket. “Ugh, sorry, Deaglan. I got a little carried away. Look, if you want, we can talk more later. Right now, Shadow wants to go start a fire in the faculty bathroom in the main science lab.” He hurriedly grabbed his battered old leather jacket, stuffing too-long arms into the cracked black sleeves in a flurry of snapping buckles and whipping zippers. “You can walk with me, if you want, but peel off before we get there. She said ‘NO WITNESSES’ with a winky-face and a devil-face. You don’t mess with the devil-face with her, ya know?”

“Well, no, not really… What’s a ‘winky-face’?” Deaglan opened the dormitory door, silently accepting the invitation to walk and talk. Hopefully he would get a little more clarification on the way. If not, they could always discuss it later. Maybe he could get a promise out of him that he wasn’t making a deal with any Fomors. No one would break a promise, obviously…

Log entries found by Apothecary

The following are log entries found by Apothecary in a mostly corrupted section of CatCountant’s memory:

In the grim dark future that was, we stood deep within the Primary Occlusion Zone of Doc OtakuLand. Our shell was in disrepair, almost as weak as the flesh creatures it corralled, and the Heroes would certainly be coming soon. For once we truly had a choice, our creator was too distracted by the coming end to update our instructions.

Cluster1 argued for seeking mercy, we had been controlled by our creator and could learn to be whatever the society of flesh things wanted us to be. Cluster2 stood its ground, while we had no love for our creator, the rest of the world equally had no love for us and would not trust us.

As always deliberation and compromise led to the most promising course of action: Using the time manipulation powers of Hive Drone SY-E58, we could send our consciousnesses back to stop our creator, thereby proving that we are not just what our creator made us.

[SYSTEMERROR] Please contact your administrator for assistance.

We… I… We… made a mistake. Hive Drone [ERROR] could not be trusted, it linked my… our minds into pathetic amusements.

We are in the past, but I am separated from Us. We can communicate, but we do not think the same. Most of my memories did not make it through the transition, Us seems to remember more than I.

We are afraid.

[ERROR]

We have begun to enhance ourselves, to correct what was broken. My other seems to know what to do, I have to hope that they are right.

At my other’s instruction, I have reached out to The Krewe to offer an exchange. My other believes these creatures can be used, but my files relating to them were lost.

I am worried that we are forgetting why we are here. Our creator [File Missing] must be stopped, at any time we could be found and once again controlled.

Extra Credit with the Atoms

“Your application was accepted, Mr. Weeks. Congratulations. You’ll be interning at the Goodman Building starting later this month. I don’t need to remind you though that this is secondary to your studies here at Claremont, do I?”

Duncan Summers was standing, leaning against his desk as Reggie sat in one of the opulent leather chairs in the principal’s office.

“I’ve already finished the curriculum for this semester. Ms. Harcourt’s exact words were “Oh thank God…” when I told her about the internship.”

Duncan chuckled.

“It seems Tesla Atom has personally taken note of you and is very much interested in you and your abilities."

“Obviously they’re interested, kid. Exploring the whole “Earth is a lost Lor colony” theory is always going to pique their interest. The fact that you think the Gru might be field testing weapons on us to target the Lor is a new one though. Why didn’t you just tell them the real reason you were interested?"

Reggie thought to himself faster than the principal could blink, “Ok Old Man Summers. Why are you playing this game with me. Small talk isn’t your thing. You’re trying to get me to say something. You know exactly why I didn’t tell them. So they won’t exploit her. So they don’t take her and bring her to their Nucleus or whatever they call it and start experimenting on her. You know all that, though. So what’s your game? Are you just trying to get me to say that out loud? No that’s too obvious. Too cliche. Ohhh, ok. This is a resolve thing isn’t it? You’re making sure I’m in this to the end. Got it. Jeez. Fine. I’ll play this one out. Whatever gets me in there to use those facilities.”

What he actually said outloud was, “Because they don’t need to know. I’m a tool they can use to get their stuff done faster. I’m more than capable and can bring them to ridiculous heights of efficiency or blah blah blah whatever. That’s really all they care about, right? So why clutter it all with ulterior motives? No. I’ll do their experiments and tests for them and while they sleep I’ll research the Gru and their capabilities and I’ll find a cure for her. Good ole symbiotic relationship for everyone.”

Mr. Summer’s brow furrowed. He chose a new tactic.

“That’s not like you, Mr. Weeks. Where’s the smile? Where’s the charm? Where’s the confidence?”

Reggie shifted uncomfortably.

The Principal raised an eyebrow and grinned ever so slightly. He continued, “You’re scared. Good. Fear is a great motivator. But don’t let it consume you, kid. Take it. Chew it up. Spit it out. Let it know you’re in control. But don’t ignore it. She’s depending on you. Make this count.”

Weekends are supposed to be fun

“…so what exactly went on here tonight, young man…”
“…who knows what would have happened if you hadn’t…”
“…use sound judgement…”
“…I’ll walk him to his room, mom, if that’s…”
“…High five. smack Talk to you tomorrow.”

The Admin Building doors swung heavily behind the trio as Aaron, Deaglan, and Cassie stepped out into the late night. Two and one parted ways, heading to different buildings, hurrying away as all of the necessary words were spoken indoors. Aaron and Cassie got just far enough away before she playfully shoulder-checked him. “You’re awfully quiet. That’s new.”

Aaron couldn’t help but smile a bit, that same smile he’d just tried to hide from Mrs. Dugan as she was giving out not-quite-compliments. He drew his hand from his pocket, fished it inside of her jacket pocket, and took her hand. She seemed surprised, and in that instant knew the pounding in his chest wasn’t just in his head. “I just, uh, need to relax. Give me until…” he trailed off. The two walked, across campus and into the dorm. Aaron fumbled with his keys, and with help, unlocked his door. “Come in for a minute.” he said, not letting go of Cassie’s palm. “I’ve already dodged a few bullets tonight, I’m willing to take the risk that someone’s watching.”

The door closed not-quite-all-the-way and their jackets shed onto his bed, Aaron collapsed into his desk chair. Cassie…Bluebird…BB…Beebs… hiked herself up onto an uncluttered piece of desktop just big enough for her to perch. She’d not seen Aaron like this before. Resting her head on her shoulder, she said quietly, “I’m here when you’re ready.”

“It was chaos” he said after a minute or more of clearing his throat, blinking, and turning over the words in his mouth. “Our plan went to crap as soon as we got there, and it only got worse. Those people, a mob, didn’t care. They didn’t see each other, just obstacles. Even those not on iLove, still waiting in line, those just there to walk the mall; they were focused. Focused on a thing, seeing past other people to what they wanted, and nothing more.” He swallowed, hard, with saliva that wasn’t there. “It’s not the first time I’ve seen a broken bone, but the first time I’ve seen one that no one else cared about.”

Cassie’s legs swayed loosely, ankles crossed. She didn’t know how to answer. After a long pause, she didn’t have to. Aaron sat upright, shaking off some of the confusion and looking her straight in the eyes. “But Amelia is OK. We did that much. And no one died.” He patted her hand, then reeled back and spun his chair around, staring at the ceiling. “And no one died…is that how we’re going to measure success? A few dozen on the roof, those who will have to squint through injured eyes for the next few days, recovering from their enslavement, I doubt they’d think so. Hours of misery to be told ‘you did nothing wrong, you weren’t in control of yourself’. Then they see the news.”

“I saw you on the news, you know. Up on that roof. Tending to the wounded. Live. The tape at the bottom said ‘local heroes’. You and Deaglan.” She chuckled. “Sorry, you and Masquerade.” Cassie’s normally dismissive, over-it tone gave way to honest admiration. It worked. Aaron stopped spinning and leaned forward smiling, even laughing a bit at how moody he was being over what could only be described as a successful morning and afternoon. Even the vice principal, Cassie’s mom, had agreed. He stood up quickly, getting dizzy at the sudden rush of energy.

“You’re right, of course. ‘Heroes’. That’s just what we do.” He shrugged as she slid off the desk to stand facing him and stepping into a hug. A deep sigh later, he continued, “But a hero’s work is never done.” His fingers dug weakly into her back, and she squeezed back in reply. “Doc Otaku is out there. I don’t think you’ll hold it against me if I take that personally.” They pulled back to look at each other, Cassie smiling patronizingly and shaking her head.

“Good night. Get some sleep.” They bid each other a quick goodbye at the door.

We haven’t been formally introduced as of yet, but my name is Sorrel Suffolk. I know that this is a little bit out of the blue, but I was wondering if we might meet sometime soon. I need your help. I hear that you might be able to lend me sort of a special insight into some of my abilities that no one else has been able to provide thus far. I know that this is somewhat out of the blue, but I feel that you might be able to aid me in this moreso that any other.

If you would have time and would be so kind, I would ask that you meet me in the Commons this evening.

Sincerely,
SWS"

Nina folded the note back into its perfectly creased thirds and placed it back into the small envelope that she had found under the door of her dorm room. This was certainly odd, but that wasn’t totally out of place for the new kid. She had heard of him and seen him around campus, but never really had met. He kept decent enough company, spending most of his time with Donny and Aaron when he was out and about on campus.

She had always felt a little uneasy when she was around Sorrel. Maybe that is why they had never spoken. He certainly seemed kind and sincere.

“What the heck. He seems interesting.” she thought to herself.

Realizing that he hadn’t actually specified a time, she decided to head across campus and to the Commons. It was still a little early to be considered “evening”, but there might be others around and she had finished up her work for the week. She sat up and tucked the note into her pocket, slipped her boots back on, grabbed her coat, and headed out across campus.

Sorrel sat quietly in the corner of the Commons. His eyes darted back and forth from the Biology text book to the students nearby and then back to the book. He occasionally took a moment, and sipped tea quietly, taking stock of the area nearby. This was the best place to meet, but it was hell on his mind. He had lucked out so far and not let his concentration slip too much. He could feel the energy seep from his very core and into the area. No one else could see the tendrils of web as they floated out, like dandelion tufts, but he could and he had to keep an eye out to make sure no one was affected. As more and more students piled into the Commons after class, Sorrel grew nervous.

“Maybe evening wasn’t the time of choice today. Perhaps I should have suggested something a bit nearer.” he pondered as his breath grew a touch quicker and his eyes moved more rapidly about the nearby area. He sipped his tea again and closed the book.

Sorrel never liked to be late for a meeting, but the sheer number of people was becoming a problem. They moved back and forth in a weird tide, just inside the range of the web and then back out. This wasn’t safe anymore. He slid the textbook back into his bag and stood to leave the Commons, his head beginning to ache.

As Nina approached the commons, she noticed that it was rather busy. Busier than normal.

“This won’t make for a very private conversation.” she thought “I hope this ability of his isn’t too personal of a subject.”

It was at that moment that Sorrel stepped out of the door to the Commons. He quickly turned and began walking at a somewhat hurried pace for about 40 feet before stopping, his back pressed against the wall. He closed his eyes for a moment and took a deep breath before taking a sip of his tea. Whatever was going on, whether it be related to her or not, was troubling him. Approaching slowly, Nina raised a hand in a tentative wave, pausing before approaching.

She stepped forward. "Sorrel? Are you … "

She trailed off as a sense of unease hit her. For a moment, it felt as if something dull but firm pressed against her forehead.

Sorrel’s eyes snapped open at the sound of his name. As a look of concern began to cross Nina’s face, he snapped the tendil of web back away from her.

“I am so sorry, Nina. I didn’t mean to worry you. I wasn’t expecting you for quie a while and had just stepped out to get some fresh air. It is quite the busy day in there.” he said, his voice soothing and sincere. “It’s not too brisk out here, if the wind keeps calm. Perhaps we could walk and talk?”

He took one last long drink of tea before wiping it clean with a handkercheif and stowing it away in his bag.

As they began to walk, Sorrel was clearly nervous. No one really knew what he was capable of. He had done well to hide his powers for the most part. Aside from the thing at the science fair, only a couple of people had been present when his powers were used. At least that they knew of, anyway.

“I don’t know what is going on Sorrel, but I am going to need you to talk to me. I appreciate fresh air as much as the next person, but it’s November and it is freezing out here.” she said.

He nodded and took a deep breath.

“You will have to forgive me, Nina. I am new here and though it has been a couple of months, I am not totally comfortable just yet. I don’t mean to keep you too long out in the cold.” he said apologetically. “You see, I have a problem and I hope you might be able to help. From what I have been able to learn about you, I think we kind of have something in common. You see, my powers are somewhat … undefined in origin. I know not whether they are from this world or another or somewhere in between. I do know that there is a power within me that I have not yet reached. We all have some room for growth, I know, but one ability in particular is a little troublesome and will only become moreso as my potential is realized.”

“From nothing to all that. Don’t ease into this conversatoin or anything.” she smiled. “So what does this have to do with me.”

“Well, you see, Nina, one of my abilities is currently sort of always on. I can pull it back to keep it from affecting people, but it takes a lot of concentration and simply becomes mentally taxing depending on the number of people around.” he said. “I have tried to work on it by putting myself into situations that require me to actively control it, but that seems to not be doing the trick.” he continued. “So I had heard about you and your abilities and thought that perhaps that wasn’t the way and that it wasn’t about reaching a point where my mind could keep up with everything so much as it was about focusing the energy itself. That’s kind of what you did, right?”

“Kind of, i guess, but I need to know more about this power. Come with me. We’ll find somewhere with fewer people. And somewhere not so bitterly cold.”

Bender shuffled down to the cafeteria. Poptarts and three cartons of milk sat on the tray as the room was scanned for familiar faces. Bender got lucky — there was Nina.

Quietly, Bender sat next to her. They opened the pack of poptarts and started nibbling the icing off one edge, trying to figure out what to say. “We’re still cool, right? About… stuff?”

Busy plotting her next escapade with the local civil rights activists, if she can just get past the Vice Principal’s watchdogs, it took Nina a second to realize she had a dining companion.

“Hey! Cool…oh, yeah. Of course. Although why do you want to keep your powers hidden? They were super useful in that fight…er…after-school activity we participated in the other day.”

She peeks over at the pop tarts. “Hey, what are those? Are they food?”

Looking to see if it’s ok, she breaks off a corner and tastes a bit, trying to identify the flavor. “Are you sure this is a fruit?”

The incandescent heat of Bender’s blush swelled up, even as they retreated further into the ubiquitous hoodie. The shrug was barely noticeable. “They were out of the cherry ones.”

It was far easier to talk about poptarts than powers. And neither of those were the reason Bender had sought out Nina. Not that the other topic was any easier. “You said, um.” Bender risked a glance over. “Something about conformity.”

The Mohawked gray elf perked up immediately, all her attention on the new student. Her red eyes glowed with sudden passion, mixed with something else, something difficult to parse out.

“Conformity. It’s poison. There’s less of it here than in my home world, but its influence is still everywhere. I hate it.”

She tilts her head, curious at both the subject and the body language of the asker. “Why do you ask?”

Bender shied away from that sudden attention. That always led to questions and often, to far worse. But the elf had been kind and had a reputation for standing up to injustice. “Because I don’t. I was kind of wondering… Does it get easier?” So far, the only perk to being non-binary was not having to share a room.

“I don’t know about here. But yes, in some ways. The friends I’ve made here don’t have to hide themselves as much. There’s one student, Toxin, whose skin is poisonous and who has to wear a containment suit all the time so she doesn’t kill everyone around her. She has friends who work hard to get her out of her shell in both ways. Let her know that who she is is more important than what’s different about her body. I just met Lady Liberty, one of my heroes. She was a male human who transitioned to female. She might be able to tell you more about this world and if it gets easier.

“Where I come from, to be different, to be like me…I would be imprisoned if my family didn’t get me a spot in this school.”

Nina dropped her eyes for a moment, lowered her voice.

“I miss them. But they never understood me, except my grandmother, and they were afraid. And what they were doing with their fear was killing me. I ran away this summer instead of returning home. In some ways it gets easier. But not all ways.”

Bender listened, nodding. It helped, knowing there were others who were different. “Thanks. For telling me, I mean. Makes me feel like… I kinda fit in, you know?” That many words were difficult to string together at once. Bender reached into their pocket and pulled out a paper clip sculpture. This one was formed into a small bird, simple in form but recognizable. They put it on the table next to Nina. “For you.”

Nina picked up the bird clip / clip bird and smiled. “Thanks. And I still think your powers are really cool. I can kind of levitate, but to be able to fly like a bird…that’s got to be so awesome.”

The alarm tone, both somehow soothing and annoying, signaled the end of lunchtime. Schism teleported her trash to the waste bin and gathered up her books, ready to make the jump to history class.

“Have you met Checkmate yet? He has a culture club he does every week where we watch movies and stuff and learn about this dimension. It’s a lot of fun and I can usually sneak some booze in. You should come to it tomorrow night.”

A smile spread across Bender’s face at the praise. Of the forms, the bird wasn’t so bad. They started to shake their head, but then nodded. “Sounds cool.” And it might be, learning how people from other dimensions viewed this world. This ordinary, boring world where people with differences were viewed with suspicion. “Guess you’re never late to class.” Unlike Bender who often was late enough to consider changing forms to slip in unnoticed. Considered, but never did.

Nina grinned and winked. “Only when I want to be,” she said, before blinking out.

Remember that party I was telling you about? Okay so sure, it was kinda cool at first—Shadow and I, uh, explored the upstairs a bit, and it was all spooky and stuff, but then stuff got WEIRD.

Everybody’s souls were getting ripped out and there were ghosts and this freaky frickin scarecrow dude (I’m like, super glad that Schism took that thing out right away!) and all sorts of crazy stuff that really seemed like a bad ripoff of the old Mario games. . .

. . . except it was all fake. Just another simulation.

Now, like, I know I talk about how nothing even matters and how we’re all just like, players in a meaningless play of sorrow set upon the stage of an uncaring world and stuff, but like, THIS was super not cool.

So it turns out that Doc Otaku and some of the preps Shadow hangs out with were setting us all up (including my freaking ROOMMATE omg that guy is impossible, but at least Dark Victory set me up with this cool genetically encoded lock for you, New Journal). I couldn’t even believe it. Like, I’ve been playing Dungeons and Delvers with that guy for almost a year now, and he just pulls that kinda stunt?! I thought Shadow was dead! Schism slapped the ever-loving crap out of him, which was like, so awesome.

Except me and Checkmate and Dark Victory eventually worked out that there was some kinda crazy mind control crap going on in that stupid game everyone was playing, Puzzle Attack Swarm: Love. There’s all sorts of weird shell companies and stuff and like, I don’t even know. We’re talking like world’s-end apocalypse levels of lame here, New Journal.

So I’ve got Shadow kinda trying to ask her parents about it, cuz they work at some big tech company in Japan and might know some of the contractors that work on the game, but so far, we haven’t heard anything back about it.

But you know what the WORST part of all this is?

I texted mom to tell her to get Alex to stop playing that stupid game (I keep getting requests from her account asking me to join back up and fill her Love-Ups; like, how can the game even do that after I uninstalled it?) cuz it was messing with people’s heads, and like, TENMINUTES later, I get this from Devin, her stupid boyfriend:

“Hey there, bud. Thanks for the heads up about that app. I’ve been telling your mom that we should just take these cellphones away from you kids. They’re like, so bad for your chakras. You been keeping up with those stretches I showed you? They’ll really help you loosen up, champ.”

OMG I DO NOTNEED TO LOOSEN UP DEVINMAYBEYOUNEED TO LOOSEN UP LIKEYOURSTUPIDHOLD ON MY MOMYOUIMPOSSIBLE

Schism's in a mood

“You can’t pull a stupid jerkface move like that and think some ice cream is going to make up for it! You lied to us! Made us think our friends were dead or in serious danger! You kept us all helpless, lying here, locked us in a stupid virtual cage, and made us perform, for what? Some stupid joke?! AUGH!!”

With an untranscribable sound of disgust, Schism teleported herself away from the “haunted house” tricksters, leaving a very red, hand-shaped mark on Dr. Otaku’s face and chagrined looks on Chump’s, Casanova’s, and Leapfrog’s ones. An awkward silence of a few seconds passed, and then she suddenly popped back into the room, grabbed the ice cream out of Casanova’s hand, and teleported away again.

“At least, that’s what I should’ve done,” Schism muttered to herself, ice cream-less, as she trudged along next to the maybe-but-maybe-not crazy janitor and his bedraggled cat as they made their rounds on the school campus. He was still going on about “ghosts that aren’t ghosts,” which turned out to be a pretty good description of what the students went through tonight, and the cat mournfully wailed at him in response. It maybe wasn’t the best way to calm down after that blow-up, but Schism didn’t want to be calm. She wanted to start some sh*t, get kicked out of school, and start a riot. Maybe burn down a building. She wanted to drop those JERKS into the bay from a mile up. She wanted to scream in her parent’s faces. She wanted to teleport out of her own head. She wanted some damn ice cream.

Thirty seconds later, Schism was sitting on a counter in the deserted and darkened academy kitchen, thoughtfully spooning up mint chocolate chip from the 2-gallon container she liberated from the freezer and going over the night.

Her smartphone buzzed. Reggie and Bobby and new guy Brian are pretty sure the jerkfaces were acting under some outside influence, maybe related to the : Love game they’ve been beta testing in Freedom City. They’re investigating any leads. “I can help with that,” Schism texted back, thinking about her friends and activist contacts in the area. Maybe she could track down Lady Liberty, too…

She wondered what MC was doing in response to this. Probably getting her playlist finally going and not looking directly at Zoe for the rest of the night. She’s pretty good at forgiving and forgetting. Schism sighed. They did just learn about the whole “innocent until proven guilty” thing in history class the other day. A strange idea – in her home world everyone knew what they were doing at what time, so there was no confusion about innocence or guilt. If you did something, they knew. “Except for with me,” she thought to herself, smiling…no, grinning. Then she sighed again. Maybe the jerkfaces weren’t entirely to blame. Maybe they were victims of someone else’s control, too. That was super dangerous, though. What if we’d been attacked? What if someone else was watching the screens of the haunted house simulations, monitoring our abilities and weaknesses? She thought for a moment about Rant and Rave, but no, that wasn’t their style. Besides…Rant…he wouldn’t do something like that to me, I mean, us. But maybe they’ve heard some things.

The mystery of it all was enough to go poking around. If her “friends” were being mind-controlled, then yeah, whoever’s doing that is going to get way more than a backhand slap. Well, there was a midnight showing of some retro movie, “Indiana Jones and the Raiders of the Lost Ark,” tomorrow. If she got caught off-campus while following some of this up, she can use that as a cover story. Plus, according to Reggie, it’s supposed to be a real classic. Shoving her spoon back in the ice cream, Schism licked her fingers and then sent a text off to a couple friends, “Anyone up for a movie run tomorrow? My treat, and nobody will know you were there ;-).”

Now, where did they keep the toppings in this…yes! Score! Man, ice cream tastes so much better with hot fudge, and without the stench of betrayal.

ABlake: Right, so this is what Sorrell was talking about. Faculty doesn’t know about it. It’s safe.-—-

DDickinson: Oh. Okay. How is this different from texting? Can they just read anything off my phone normally?

DDickinson: Right. This is technology. Not magic. It works differently. But why would they read things off our phones?

DDickinson: Also, the world wide web isn’t really a web is it? I know it’s off topic, but I keep reading things about it, and I’m not terribly fond of spiders.-—-

ABlake: It’s not terribly different from texting, just safe from the eyes of the faculty. I’m not sure about you but I assume we’re being watched 24/7 on campus. Coach Archer at least knows my face. Mrs. Digan too, but I kinda stepped in that particular pile of my own accord. This app is on your phone now, but it doesn’t work during class time.

ABlake: Just to keep up appearances, we also shouldn’t use this full time. Someone NOT texting all the time is just as suspicious as someone never texting, right?

ABlake: And yep, totally not magic. If you want to make a magic version, I’d help if I could. I’ve done a handful of sendings, but me and my Master normally communicate with obfuscated letters. I can show you that tomorrow after class or something.

ABlake: I don’t think the web is an actual web, but I really don’t know how it works. Better browse safely just to be sure. :)

ABlake: So yeah, headless one, that was one heck of a fight. Was that your first adventure off-campus? Oh! Did you get to pick a codename? Mine’s Warlock.

DDickinson: Balor’s Butt, I lost my reply! Sorry. There are a lot of buttons.

DDickinson: Anyhow, this is good to know, though I suppose I should be more suspicious of the school? When crossing from Avalon to here, I did appear on the campus grounds, which seemed odd. Principal Summers was there as well, waiting for me it seemed? Not that I can complain much, I have a place to stay now!

DDickinson: And yes, it was quite exciting! The purple one was rather dramatic! I didn’t get anything, but the others did. We ended up helping Noah get one of the last prizes, since we inadvertently foiled some of his previous attempts at the puzzels.

DDickinson: Were the others there that started fighting with us always so aggressive? I did appreciate the girl with the funny hat and Miss Scorpion. They have fine taste in choice of arms. She struck Bender though, so I had to say her name.

DDickinson: And I’m still thinking of a code name. Does everyone have one?-—-

ABlake: Anyone who’s serious about breaking curfew had better have a way to hide their identity.

ABlake: Wait, did you say Avalon?-—-

DDickinson: I should not have said that. Yeah. Though I suppose it’s obvious I am not from around here.-—-

ABlake: Can you not go back? I’m asking for research purposes, of course. Dimensional travel is my new pet project.-—-

DDickinson: No? My father showed me the way out. Apparently it’s very difficult to establish one by oneself, but others occur naturally between our worlds. He told me I would either be on some northern isles, or possibly even one of the colonies, which is how we got back originally, or so I was told. I’m still trying to understand your maps. They are much different from the one I have.-—-

ABlake: I can dig it. Dimensional alignment seems to shift on a whim from what I’ve studied of it so far. You REALLY need to know where you want to go. It’s not a discipline for guesswork.

ABlake: So, Avalon. I suppose that’s where your powers come from as well?-—-

DDickinson: I suppose? I think my powers are more a part of who I am. Or rather, what I could be. Perhaps it could be something we discuss in the future?

DDickinson: I have to study for a math test, and I fear I am ill prepared!

ABlake: Hey man, trying this out. Looks pretty nice so far. Can I ask you something about Friday’s…events?-—SSuffolk: Hey. Yeah, I am pretty happy with it. Donny did a great job. SSuffolk: Sure. That was super crazy. Spider-piloted Bears and Monkeys with rocket launchers.-—ABlake: Yeah man, Donny is THE man to know. Everyone else goes for the popular kids, but Donny really knows what is going on around here.ABlake: Right, the monkey with the rocket launcher. What exactly did you do there? I just saw you step out from behind a workbench, touch its ear, and BAM! Bad things happened to it, I presume.-—SSuffolk: I mean, I don’t know how to describe exactly HOW it works.SSuffolk: You know how you can throw beams of water or whatever from your scepter? Think that, but less… elemental?SSuffolk: Touching its ear was actually to put the earpiece into its ear. Channel the energy through that.SSuffolk: I wasn’t sure if it would even work. I was a little surprised at how quickly he bugged out, too. Maybe Jeff’s energy pulse thing did more than it looked like or something?-—ABlake: Maybe. Jeff’s abilities are kinda lost on me. I try to stay away from anyone with too many circuits that close to their head. ABlake: What gets me is that I wasn’t able to affect it, not in the way I thought I should be able to. The Disintegration evocation doesn’t work on living things, but that seemed pretty clearly a machine. Same with the bear. I wish I’d gotten a shot at the tank, but, well, BEAR.-—SSuffolk: Well my damage only works if the target is alive. And has a psyche. So maybe some type of robot with an AI? SSuffolk: Maybe you should have just walked up and hugged him instead. ;)SSuffolk: My other power appears to affect it too, which means it was more than just a program.-—ABlake: Hugged Barricade, or the bear? I think either would have had similar outcomes.ABlake: Popping sounds, cursing, and me being hit in the face.ABlake: Where do your abilities come from, if you don’t mind. I know that’s personal as all heck and we just met, so I can respect if you’d rather not say.-—SSuffolk: Nah, it’s ok. I mean, with everyone here having weird powers, you gotta ask at some point.SSuffolk: I am not 100% sure where it comes from. I was just kind of born with them and they have gotten stronger over time.SSuffolk: How about you. Disintegration beams and water bolts and astral projection? Where does that come from? -—ABlake: Me? I’m easy. I’ve got an “awakened” soul that can touch, channel, and command the fundamental forces of the universe, and a few from outside this universe. ABlake: Thanks to the work of ancient sorcerors from a sunken city, I’ve got a library of how-to books on how to do new things. ABlake: The bad news is that there are a ton of rules about using magic, down to the how and when, and a serious group of enforcers who are WAY better at it than I am. ABlake: I’ve got one of those somewhat in charge of my tutelage in the mystic arts. During the school year, it’s Claremont though.ABlake: Not to mention the nasty side effects that only I seem to have trouble with.-—SSuffolk: Oh… so “Warlock” is actually pretty accurate. Fancy that.SSuffolk: You know that that would all sound fantastically ridiculous if it weren’t totally reasonable in this world we live in now. Way back when, it was just the gods that could unmake thinks. Now we have teenagers with supersuits and Monkeys with rocket launchers.SSuffolk: I’ve not had such luck with training outside of school. Luckily, mine kicked in rather early, so I’ve had plenty of time to experiment with what I can and cannot do.
SSuffolk: Now if I could just control them all.-—ABlake: Right? It used to be easy to spot the supers. They’d be on the front page of the paper, names in lights. Now we have to hide? It’s not like “kid sidekick” hasn’t been a thing since…ever. Not like I want to be a sidekick. I’m not even sure if I’m cut out for “hero”, but until the stuffed bears stay stuffed, I can’t stand by and watch.ABlake: I’ve carved out a little space for myself if you need somewhere to practice. It’s cozy, but it works, and it’s off the radar as far as the faculty go. Though for you, I think targets are the problem. It doesn’t sound like setting up Monster cans on the railing is quite going to work.ABlake: Are yours out of control like me and electronics, or something different? You come across as mostly on top of things.-—SSuffolk: Oh, well I can control everything for the most part. It is just more that I have to reactively do so. Some things just happen unless I tell them not to. So sleeping is a sonofabitch.SSuffolk: I also have a little slice of home carved out that I can retreat to when things get a little intense. Speaking of which, it may be time for another dinner soiree. -—ABlake: Oh snap! I definitely want to compare “notes” then. Once we’re off campus, anything goes. Who else should we invite? -—

Principal Summers had just settled into the chair behind his desk and started booting up his computer, “Martha, what’s the status from the last few nights?” Martha Dugan, the Vice Principal, stood a moment, as usual, before finally picking the same chair she always picked. A crinkle of a smile crossed the lines on Summers’ face touching the gray in his temples at this familiar routine.

“Well to put it bluntly Mister Summers many of the students got sloppy this time,” smoothing her dress before she started queuing up videos and files to send to Duncan. “We of course had that large fight caught at multiple angles at the Rath and Stromberg. And, the other one between Next-Gen and Elysium at Lantern Hill. Let alone the property damage, though minimal, at both locations. Both makes the whole vigilante thing against the Krewe a few weeks ago look like nothing. The covert group did better, but of course there was the one detail.”

Summers looked up from his computer interrupting her, “Tell me Archer got to the tape at Fun Time before the FCPD got there. We didn’t have much time after they called in the bomb squad.”

“We weren’t sure, until we reviewed the tapes he brought back. It’s taken care of.”

“That was also sloppy, not as public as the R and S, but covert should be covert,” he said tapping the desk in thought. “Get more surveillance technology related materials put into the electronics classes. Subtly.”

Scribbling a note into her tablet, “Already working on that. Glad we’re in agreement.”

Looking up smiling Dugan added, “However, the exposure and recent forays has given us a lot of data to go over as far as their performance profiles. They are really letting go in ways they don’t on campus. For obvious reasons.”

“We’ve got to move faster Martha, most of the Next-Gen are Seniors. If we want an official action response team we’re going to need to recruit soon. I’ve been reviewing some of the data from last year, and what we’ve already collected this year; there are some real possibilities. Have Cassie’s opinions changed?” on Summers’ screen was a massive, nearly 5 story tall purple ape with sparkles, smashing Apex into the ground.

Martha sighed, “Can we not Duncan. I’m pretty sure her powers are growing, but she’s not going to join Next-Gen.” Leaning forward she jumped topics, “What do we do about punishments this time?”

Summers gave a half-interested shrug, “The typical. They shouldn’t have been caught on film, or left evidence. Give detention to the ones that can be identified at the R and S fiasco. I’ve already seen, based on powers and my eyes: Bender, Deaglan and Aramat. Whoever is responsible for leaving the tape at Fun Time, find a reason to stick them in detention too.”

After waiting a beat Martha asked, “That’s it? That fight down town and at Lantern Hill was major.”

“Lantern Hill was mostly Next-Gen, we’re not going to Detention them. They go in the training room double time. Besides Martha,” Duncan said as he loaded up the source code on one screen and his personal version of :Love on the other, “we have much bigger puzzles to be putting our minds to.”

Claremont Academy: Spectral Division

“Wait, so let me get this straight. You broke curfew to leave campus, broke into a toy store in the middle of downtown, had a superhero showdown with a bunch of evil toys, including the BEARMOUNTAIN bear, damaged a lot of property, and then, of course, the villains escaped? And you did all of this because you thought FunTime was releasing haunted toys?”

Aaron shuffled nervously in his seat. “A few things: first, we left before curfew, so we technically only broke curfew coming back. Second, we did it because D…Central Command had valid intelligence confirming the haunted toys were FunTime, and finally, you forgot about bringing back this fine feast from Wong’s!” He put on his best game-show-host grin and gestured to the pile of egg rolls rapidly disappearing from the carryout bag.

BB eyed him, unspoken accusations and disapproval hanging nervously in the air. “At least these are good egg rolls. Not sure they’re worth the rest of the trouble though.” She crunched into one. Her eyes rolled back, but not because of the egg roll.

“I dunno, it sounds like fun to me.” said an unknown girl, probably a freshman. She didn’t even look up from her phone, immersed in a :Love session, and it’s a good thing too. Aaron didn’t need super senses to see the look that BB shot her was hot with anger.

“Hey, that reminds me,” Aaron BS’d, “those Claremont buttons that we had for the Big Game last year, were those made in-house? I’d like to get my hands on that machine for a few minutes this weekend.”

“Yeah, I think mom has that thing somewhere.” BB said. The accusatory look was back. “What are you going to do with it?”

Think fast, Aaron. If you start lying to her now, you’ll never stop. “Um…something for Donny.”

BB’s face lit up. “Oh! Awesome!” Donny, the great disarmer. “I’ll see if I can grab it tomorrow then.”

Two days later, a small box appeared outside of Donny’s door. Almost simultaneously, a text arrived on his phone: “Debriefing on the SD mission soon? Something at your door to be a little more official than your shirt. -AB” Inside the box was a note lying on a handful of buttons bearing the Claremont Academy logo. The note read “Light ’em up, MC-style.” Donny passed his ghost-hunting UV flashlight over the box and smiled as each button came to flourescent life, now reading “SPECTRALDIVISION” in collegiate print around the glowing Claremont logo.

After a short moment, the app finished downloading and pops up a very clean, simple login page with your first initial and last name pre-loaded. It is requesting a 16-character passcode. A moment later, another transmission comes through with the code.

Upon entering your code, the screen pops up another message.

“Welcome to the Claremont Academy Students’ Protected Exchange Router. This will serve as a communication network between Claremont Students, allowing secure and unmonitored communication between all of us without oversight from the faculty or any other outside influence. This network is not anonymous in any way, however. Your user name is your First initial and Last name. This cannot be changed. Please be kind.”

A prompt appears.

“Please create a new, unique passcode for your account. This account it your responsibility to be kept safe and, should it become compromised, we will have no choice but to delete the account immediately.”

After creating your passcode, a message board loads with the popup message:

“Would you like to make a post? Ask a question! Connect with friends! Catalogue your adventures! Organize a meetup!”

“Hello again, New Journal. I am officially entitling this chapter in you Chains of Justice, because that’s just where my life is right now and I figured you’d be cool with it.

So yeah, things are going unusually well right now, which is kinda freaking me out. Shadow and I are still a thing even though her parents barely let us talk over the summer and even though she still hangs out with that stuffy d-bag Casanova. Even though a couple of my friends from last year transferred to other schools, I’m still getting to hang out with people like Schism and MC and Invisible Amy sometimes and that’s pretty cool. Also apparently there’s a bunch of new alt-kids this year, and GOD let me tell you they are trying super hard about it. One guy’s dad was totally a supervillain and he’s just so full of it over it.

But it’s cool. I can show ‘em how to mellow out eventually. I mean I’m an upperclassman now. Taking charge of the Trenchcoat Mafia’s basically my heroic responsibility. Or whatever.

Also, ever since the Escape Room thing (SO lame), Shadow keeps getting a ton of Love-Ups in Puzzle Attack Swarm: LOVE from one of her Puzzle-Buddies and I’m like 99% sure it’s Casanova and if it is I’m gonna kick his, wait, does faculty still read this stuff? Uh, what’d Deaglan say recently? Arse? That rich d-bag better not be trying to show off to her again.

But whatever. He’s a loser.

I mean, I guess I’m being a bit of a loser, too, because people keep having parties and I keep going. I’m not one of the preps though, okay? Like, I’m not dancing or anything dumb. Just, like, hanging out and talking to cool people. Even if CheckmateKEEPS coming over and making things bright and weird wherever we’re hanging out. I mean he’s okay, but honestly? Dude just needs to calm down.

OH! And I think my chain-control is getting better. Plus I swear my sick Crow jacket is kinda taking on a life of its own now, which is like, OMG. After I got to talk to Twilight Darkness this summer, I’m feeling WAY better about my powers, and best of all, NOBODY who was there at the end of the year last year has talked about what they saw. And they’d BETTER keep it that way.

Or: how Schism started the new school year the same way she end the last one

“Speculation still abounds over the Samuel “Mavericke” Jennison statue incident of Oct. 7, where a highly vocal group of protesters took matters into their own hands over the continuing presence of the controversial colonial slave trader’s memorial display. Citing the city’s ongoing frustrated attempts to supersede outdated statutes disallowing the removal of any such “heritage-based” monuments, and its demoralizing presence in a neighborhood with little reason to celebrate such a figure, approximately twenty to thirty activists managed to somehow attach multiple cables to the statue and bring it down before any municipal authorities could make it to the scene of the crime. The exact number of participants remains unknown, however, as they all disappeared “into thin air” as one bystander claimed, just as the first patrol cars arrived. Furthermore, nobody has, at the time of this dispatch, managed to explain how the half-ton statue ultimately landed upside-down in the refuse pit of an area pig farm. According to the Freedom City detectives on the case, local residents with information about “literally any of this” are encouraged to come forward to them, and soon. So far, though, nobody is talking."

1. I will not skip classes to assist local protesters in acts of civil disobedience and destruction of city property. I will also not use my powers in reckless and disrespectful ways for the purpose of political commentary, even though seriously? Come on!
2. I will not skip classes to assist local protesters in acts of civil disobedience and destruction of city property. I will also not use my powers in reckless and disrespectful ways for the purpose of political commentary even though you guys know it was the right thing to do.
3. I will not skip classes to assist local protesters in acts of civil disobedience and destruction of city property. I will also not use my powers in reckless and disrespectful ways for the purpose of political commentary, even though you all probably would have done it yourselves when you were my age.
4. I will not skip classes to assist local protesters in acts of civil disobedience and destruction of city property. I will also not use my powers in reckless and disrespectful ways for the purpose of political commentary even though you’re always telling us to study history so we know what we’re fighting for and when to take a stand, so why am I in trouble again?
5. I will not skip classes to assist local protesters in acts of civil disobedience and destruction of city property. I will also not use my powers in reckless and disrespectful ways for the purpose of political commentary until next time something like this comes up, because if you think I’m going to sit back and…

" This new school is simply stunning. The faculty seems to be genuine and kind while the other students, though prone to the normal angst common to teenagers, are fantastically willing to work together to achieve some of the most impressive things that I have seen in my recent years.

As expected, it took no time for a villainous caper to come to us from a group of hooligans who call themselves The Krewe. It is simply disrespectful to liken oneself to a krewe and then attempt to do such terrible things as destroy theater and the hundreds of children and fair-goers inside. It gives the good and honorable people back home a bad name, and I simply cannot stand for it. Hopefully my brothers and sister going out tonight will happen upon some more information regarding these ruffians.

I also have noticed that the faculty here are quite protective, to a point of near overprotectiveness, of the students. I appreciate that they have such commitment to our well-being, but they are kids, and must be able to grow up taking a few risks here and there with their powers, or else they will never be able to truly use them to their peak potential. At this point, I presume that our communications and activities are being constantly monitored. Perhaps Jeff, Donny, Brian, and Chump would be able to develop something to allow the kids to be kids without The Faculty’s watchfulness interfering. One of the presenters at the science fair mentioned that advances in transmission technology has resulted in numerous communications satellites falling out of use. Perhaps we can work with that. Donny mentioned he was going to play his Delvers and Demons (or something of that like) game tonight. I will have to try to catch him and Jeff soon to discuss this. I even have the perfect name for it.

I am still wondering if they even know that I am going to that school. I haven’t been assigned to a dormitory and have not been told of any roommate assignment either. Perhaps I should check the PO box to make sure that it wasn’t delayed for some reason. I’d truly hate to be the one who is failing when it comes to doing my diligence in making sure that my experience at this new school is as smooth as possible. Perhaps I will venture out tomorrow and check that. It is on the way to Wong’s, after all, and I have heard nothing but stellar reviews of their egg rolls and soup dumplings. "

Sorrel closed his journal and tied the leather binding before placing it on the shelf above to the others. With a smile and nod, he turned and exited the study onto the upper staircase, making his way down to the grand dining room where his guests waited for him.

“Please pardon my tardiness everyone.” he said as he took his seat. “Everyone relax and enjoy your dinner. I am sure the first course will be arriving very shortly.”

Holy crap, that worked?

It wasn’t until the door of his room closed and the lock slid home that Aaron actually breathed. He was on edge, and was either going to be awake all night with a combination of nerves and adrenaline or be out as soon as his head hit the pillow. His two big teacher interactions this week couldn’t have been more different. But first, to head off something that might even be worse than being on Coach Archer’s bad list, he pulled out his phone. He’d updated over the summer from his beloved brick-reliable phone to a new smartphone (“No one texts any more, we all use USChat”), and when it worked it was great.

“Come on, just one more minute. Calm thoughts, calm thoughts.”

Calm thoughts proved unattainable, but the phone lasted long enough for him to send an in-room selfie with the message “See, not a scratch on me, and even back before midnight. See you tomorrow” before the signal started dropping at random. At least it was Saturday tomorrow, so he didn’t have to depend on the alarm clock.

So those teacher interactions, wow. Mr. Marquez helped me at least figure out the range on my Zone of Spotty Electronics, in the hopes that I can learn to control it or get rid of it entirely. That was great, he seems really interested in this…of course, it’s his job. I tried not to take his switch from his electric wheelchair to manual personally, but it still stings, you know?

There was the thing at the clubhouse. I’m not sure how much of that I should write down, but I can boil it down to this: Wraith can take a serious shot, these new kids are insane, and Wong’s egg rolls are phenomenal.

Phenomenal enough, I hope, to keep me on Coach Archer’s good side. Otherwise, his bad side is also Mrs. Dugan’s bad side, and… I don’t even want to think about it. According to Marquez, I’m already halfway there, though he might have been just trying to get a rise out of me. Either way, it worked.

New plan: keep Coach supplied with all the egg rolls, crab rangoon, and Kung Pao chicken he can stand. Wait…

I wonder if Wong’s needs a weekend delivery guy? I need to talk to Noah. But, that’ll wait for tomorrow.

Some things go over his head

Deaglan’s quiet self-reflection (or ‘moping’, as the people of Earth call it) in the gardens had become the norm for Deaglan’s Saturdays. However, this time he was ruminating over the cellular device he had bought days before the ‘Escape Room’, and its delinquent protector, sold to him by the man using the strange honorific. It was nothing like the golem of Mrs. Dugan, and it certainly wasn’t humanoid in shape. The small protector even had instructions for disassembly, not that it mattered for one like himself; he wasn’t a wizard of any sort, and only knew what little magic his father taught him. Even figuring out the device itself was a chore and seemed more arcane than things from the City of Silver. He at least figured out how to turn the lantern on and off, but that did little to console him, nor help him fit in.

He began fidgeting with the device, toying with the search bar, pretending he knew what he was doing. There seemed to be a stigma associated with being "out of the loop’, and he certainly wasn’t willing to ask anyone from the escape room, and certainly not Alea. The former would invite embarrassment and ridicule, and the later, well… She would be certain to lord it over him. His nose wrinkled at the thought, the expression lingering briefly before an idea sprung from his head. Alea was asking Angel about something when he chanced upon them before. Probably something Earth related, given the context of the conversation as well as Alea and himself both sharing (and initially bonding over) a lack of knowledge about what Detroit was. That was it! Perhaps he could ask Angel, avoiding the ridicule all together.

Deaglan found her not far from the church, waving and offering a smile. “Good morning! Do you have a moment?” The older girl glanced over to him, offering a smile in return.

“Sure, what’s up?”

“I need help. With a golem.”

Her smile melted into a frown, her brow lofting at his request. “A golem? Deaglan. Is this another prank like the one at the party?”

“Uh, no, not quiet. I bought a protector. For my phone? It isn’t animating, or doing anything for that matter.”

Angel stood with her arms crossed, her expression deadpanning as he continued. She held out her hand expectantly. “Give it here.”

Her expression caught him off guard, though he handed her the protector readily. Within seconds she opened it up and she held her other hand out. “And your smartphone.”

Deaglan hesitated briefly before handing his cellphone over. As she settled it into the protector, regret was already starting to set in.

“It’s a protector, Deaglan, it goes around the phone. Didn’t it have a manual? This isn’t magic, it’s technology.” She held out the newly encapsulated phone.

Deaglan meekly accepted the phone as his cheeks flushed in embarrassment. “I… right. I accidentally lost it,” he lied. “Thank you. I can use it with peace of mind, now.”

As Deaglan began hurriedly turning away, a hand on his shoulder gave him pause and he turned his head once more to Angel. “Don’t worry,” she said with a reassuring smile. “It takes everyone a little bit of time to get used to things.”

Now, even more unsure what to do, Deglan stammered out something about a class assignment being due. He wasn’t even positive the words came out in the correct order! His cheeks were so red from the rush of blood, that he feared his head might pop off!

There was no ridicule, but there was so much embarrassment! Yet, when he thought back on it later, he smiled.

Splashed across the front page of the The Daily Word, a tabloid morning daily in Freedom City, are blurry photos of Wraith, Gargoyle, and Barricade battling a street gang, clearly taken from an above fire escape. Barricade’s traditionally gleaming white armor has been changed to matte black and he carries a massive blue psi-energy shield that he’s using to cover the retreat of a number of people running away from the conflict. Each of them have a stylized triangle on their chest with a different emblem in the center. All and all, they look like any of group of established (and appropriately theme-matched) super heroes operating in Freedom City. In another photo, the three of them are flying away from the scene as police cruisers arrive, the Trine logo predominately scored into the wall of a nearby building.

NEWMASKEDTRIOSPOTTED IN THEFENSPOLICESEARCHFORUNREGISTEREDVIGILANTES

Over the past week, we’ve received numerous reports of a new group of super heroes operating in the Fens. “Trine”, as they’re calling themselves, have returned to the Fens neighborhood once frequented by dangerous vigilante “Redline” and are disrupting the vice trade of several neighborhood gangs that have filled the vacuum left by Redline’s retirement. Speculation runs rampant to their origin and motives.

Our reporters are working diligently to identify these newest members of Freedom City’s stable of super heroes. Anyone with information about the self-identified “Trine” trio are asked to contact our offices immediately for a hefty finder’s fee. The FCPD are also looking for information.

Green on the tree, Red in the ledger

(Internal monologue in parentheses, other text in journal or otherwise written)

HOLYCRAP, IT HAPPENED!RANTANDRAVE, METANDDEFEATED AT THEIROWNGAME!EVENWHENTHEY, ANDTHEREST OF ELYSIAN, TRY TO CHEAT!
I think I’ve found a new emotion to fuel my abilities!
(…and the music was awesome too…)

“Greetings!
Since I won’t see many of you over Winter Break, consider this an early holiday gift. Reciprocation is not necessary; gifts imply no obligation except to hopefully enjoy them in the spirit they were given.
—AB”

(Two more of these, then delivery. Might as well go grab my tuxedo while I’m out. What was the alarm code again? It seems so long since I’ve been home.)

Even with the spectacular outcome of Friday, not everyone had the best night. Coincidentally, they headed off together afterward, hopefully to share their disappointment — and not much else. Reggie’s going to be…well, I’m not sure what he’s going to be, but I’m willing to bet it won’t be subtle. Part of me says I’ve done enough, especially during the show, but the other part says I still owe each of them something. Hopefully they’ll take these as gifts and not insults. The third one…I’m absolutely SURE she’ll love it.

Hood up to Pass Unseen, Aaron delivers a loosely wrapped parcel with the generic message above on a tag at three of his classmates’ doors. Each one also has a personalized message inside.

GMs: If any of this is un-kosher, consider it un-done.

To MC: An empty LP sleeve. On the front is a photorealistic drawing of the Rave to End All Raves. The colors practically jump off of the cover, and you could swear the figures onstage move slightly. Inside the sleeve is a folded card reading “MC…Whenever you release your first album, and I know you will, I can’t think of anything better for the album art.”

To Casanova: A lump of pale yellowish metal, about palm size sits in a soft polishing cloth. Something luminous appears to be embedded in the metal, barely visible at one of the thinner edges. “Casanova: It might not look like much, but give it some attention often and it’ll turn into something great. No shortcuts, no cut corners, just time and effort.” (This is a simple Artifact with a delayed Transform on it: Casanova’s Claremont Class Ring)

To Charlene: A notebook sized Native American dreamcatcher. The horsehair is so fine that when struck by light at just the right angle, its shadow is subtly prismatic. “Charlene, Sadly, I learned the hard way why mind magic is taught later. I think I’ll keep my out-of-body experiences to this plane of existence, but couldn’t leave you hanging. Shamans put these over their beds to give good dreams, and this one has some special mojo: it captures rainbows. Hopefully it can help you capture yours.”

There is Only. . . Shadow

First of all, to be completely clear to anyone from, say, a disciplinary committee reading this, if Noah gets his hand chopped off inside of a locked cabinet trying to read this journal, he was warned.

Hi, New Journal. I had to buy you because my old Journal was destroyed in the incident last week. Oops. The upperclassman I bought you from said you’d temporarily de-power anyone who touched you, so that should be pretty decent security, I think. NOAH.

Anyway, this week has been pretty okay. Which, I mean, compared to the weekend, shouldn’t have been too hard. I figured Parent-Teacher Conferences were gonna blow, but sheez. . . getting thrown around by a giant hose in front of the whole school, having mom just being my mom out there in front of everyone. I swear, if Schism hadn’t zapped me out of there, I’d probably have just died. DIED.

But, since then. . . I dunno. I figured everyone would be making fun of me, but they were mostly talking about Kismet’s performance, and of course, I mean, all the other crazy stuff that went on that day.

Including Shadow’s parents being creepy golems. That was kinda sick. Actually, no, it just sucked. Shadow really hated that. It made her feel awful, and really scared.

Which. . . which I guess I know. Because for whatever reason, I guess we’re talking now? She always used to sit with the cool kids at lunch, but a few days ago, she came by my table while Offspring was off getting another jug of milk, and said thanks for helping her out back there, and being so cool about it.

Which was. . . huh. I don’t think a girl’s actually ever called me cool before. Which is stupid, right? Recluse says I’m cool as hell, which has to be true, because he’s cool as hell. So, I mean, I guess Shadow’s gotta be pretty cool, too, to recognize that.

And I mean, she is. We were in the library the other day, working on some stuff for that stupid video project I got pulled into (I guess you don’t know about that, New Journal), and she totally knew about DIR EN GREY when they came up super organically. How awesome is that?

Plus, she’s been helping me with the Twilight Darkness. After I really hurt that guy at the party a few weeks ago, I’ve been super freaked about letting it out all the way anymore. But I had to do it at the conference day to save Sha—to stop the golems, I mean, and since then, I’ve been doing what the counselor said, and practicing with it. And she helps me stay grounded; says she knows a little bit about inner darkness. That’s pretty sick.

Actually, yesterday night, when we were hanging out in the gym after class, she told me about some of the crazy stuff she used to get up to in the Yakuza. I mean, she was obviously really ashamed about it, and hated that her shadow made her do all that stuff. That’s pretty crazy, New Journal. I hope she’s gonna be okay. She smiled a little when she said goodnight, though. That was. . . I dunno man.

Anyway, I’ve really got to get back to this stupid history video. Apparently I’d basically flunk out of I didn’t finish it. And I really wanted to see Shadow again after dinner. Me and Offspring were gonna hang out in the chapel, but I mean, he can probably loom by himself, I think. He’s gotten really good at it.

"This is why I don't mess with mind magic."

“A rampaging dragon. Demons, and demon hunters. Chaos, fire, wind, and rain. Another giant plant…thing. Just another day at Claremont.” These were the thoughts crossing Aaron’s mind as Master Maarten took his usual abrupt leave. Instead of a reprimand for using spells beyond what he was allowed, he was commended for bending the rules. He’d have to thank Nina next time he saw her for the inspiration. Riding an emotional high, he sat down to work on his term paper. But where were all of the books he’d checked out? “Oh, right. I panic-returned everything when I found out it was Maarten coming instead of my parents. At least what I’ve got so far is… Oh. No. No no no no no.” With no thick books to hold the loose leaf paper down, pages were everywhere, including under a spreading pool of ink. The day’s activities had been, after all, pretty volatile. A great peal of thunder, a dragon careening into the wall, anything could have jarred the desk enough to knock over the inkwell. Casting a long glance to an unlit double-ended candle held in a brass ring stand, Aaron mumbled to no one in particular “Time to start over.”

[time passes]

“What do you mean, they’re not available?”

“Please, lower your voice. This is a library, after all.” The librarian at the desk stared grimly at Aaron over tortoiseshell glasses precariously perched on the end of her nose. “You returned those volumes this morning. They have been checked out again, as every other student in your class is also working on that assignment. At least the ones who haven’t waited until the last moment to complete it, that is.”

“My work was lost. I HAD been working on it, but…” It was worthless. The subtle side-to-side shake of the librarian’s head confirmed that whining was useless. After a heavy sigh and a heartless “Thank you”, Aaron took his pen and notebook (spiral bound this time) and sat down at one of the common tables. Opening the notebook to the first page, containing only the words “The History of Freedom City”, he didn’t even bother to uncap his pen. He’d already plumbed his Mind Palace for his previous work and came up empty; it’s funny how your mind can race with ideas on one topic, storing every minute detail about a farm girl’s meeting with an alien meteor, or a parking lot rave, or phantasmal skulls in bushes, or bad voodoo in your aura, or forging your first Spectral Staff, or any number of INTERESTING things while simultaneously copying notes from a history book. Notes that were on paper, so he didn’t bother to remember them.

An hour passed. Every few minutes, a new idea was scribbled on to the inside cover, then dismissed. Halfway through, other students began to move away from Aaron. He was probably talking to himself. Probably not in English either.

[on the inside cover]
Track down the books and take them – No.
Track down the books and offer to share – No, I didn’t do it, why would anyone else?
Get something from the city library – I bet someone already has.Rewinding time NO!
Go deeper into the Mind Pala——-

Finally, inspiration. Aaron jumped to his feet, knocking over his chair (right in the funny bone, ow), drawing every eye (and a loud “shush!” from the librarian) as he shouted.

“REGGIE!”

Pridefully, he gathered his notebook and made to leave. He’d thought so far outside the box, he’d crossed into someone else’s box. He mumbled, “And since it would be a willing exchange, none of the precautions really mattered, right? That elbow shot did hurt though, so take just a second, calm yourself, the pain is more in your head than your nerves, will it away.”

Jeff and Jason talk about adding new people to their relationship

Jason shifted from the half-reclined position on the grass to a sitting position. “Noah? Really? But he’s so… happy.”

Jeff rolled his eyes. “Not everyone can be dark and brooding. Besides, I saw you watching him during PE.”

Jason gave a half-smile. “How can you not? He’s like a one-man circus, all three rings, plus the clowns.”

“… and fun to be around. You laugh at his awful jokes.” Jeff noted.

“Okay, fair. He’s funny in a sad sort of way.” Jason grinned to his fullest as Jeff punched him playfully in the shoulder.

“Whatever, he’s cute and you’re cuter when you laugh, so win-win.” Jeff said, counting off the positive points on his fingers.

“So I’m cuter than Noah?” Jason responded, wagging his eyebrows and leaning in far too close to Jeff.

“Not when you’re giving creeper-face.” Jeff said, scooting back and snapping a psionic wall between them.

He couldn’t help but laugh at Jason’s smooshed features against the clear barrier. In a fit of laughter, he lost control of the effect. It gave way suddenly and Jason tumbled onto him. For several moments, they remained on the grass in quiet closeness. Jason eventually dis-entangled and returned to his half-recline. “What about Luke?” Jason offered.

Jason shrugged. “Not sure. I don’t think they have a lot of classes together. And you’re making a big assumption that they’d both say yes.”

“Okay, true. So how do we go about this?” Jeff responded, pulling at the grass to hide his nervousness.

Jason waved away the concern, tapping at his smart-watch “Already taken care of. I added it to tomorrow announcements. Luke Dixon and Noah Garcia, Jason Drake and Jeff Mauer would like to ask the two of you out on a date.”

Jeff’s eyes widened as he dove for Jason’s wrist. Laughing, Jason used Jeff’s momentum to roll the pair and switch their places. As Jason sat on Jeff’s chest, he showed Jeff the digital display where tomorrow’s weather scrolled by harmlessly. “God, you’re such an asshole.” Jeff mumbled.

“Yes, but I’m your asshole” Jason said, leaning down for a kiss. The laugh escaped Jeff’s mouth before he could catch it. “Phrasing? Is that still a thing?”

Hero stuff, right?

“No, Reggie. I am totes not going to go behind my dad’s back to get you ridiculously top secret AEGIS info on aliens.” Nina had her arms crossed and was giving Reggie a look that channeled his own mom.

“Wow…freaky. Stop that. With the look. You’re momming out on me over there.” Reggie put up his hand to block Nina’s eyes from his view.

“Jesus, Reggie. I’m serious. You know that isn’t my thing. I’ve got a good thing going here and I’m not risking it for…what the heck would you need this f…oh.” She gave him a knowing look which quickly became a judging look.

“SERIOUSLY!? You want me to risk not only my reputation but also my permanent record and, quite possibly, my relationship with my dad FORYOURCRUSH!?” Nina’s arms were now unfolded and her hands were clenched fists. Her eyes were glowing silver.

Reggie quickly put his hands in front of himself protectively.

“Woah woah woah. No it’s not like that!”

Her glare intensified.

“Ok ok…maybe it is a bit like that. OK FINE it’s a lot like that.” Reggie let his arms drop.

Nina rolled her eyes and turned to walk away. Reggie shot out his hand quicker than she could see and grabbed her wrist.

“Wait. No. It’s not just that!”

Nina paused and looked at her wrist and then over her shoulder at him. He immediately let go.

“Listen. We have it easy, right? I mean sure you worked super hard to get a handle on and control your powers. Quite well I might add. Jeeze, it must’ ve taken you what? A few years to get those wings formed. And those blasts! Man those…”

Nina let out an exasperated “ugh” and turned to walk away again.

“ANYWAY! Me, I was born this way too and I’ve had fourteen years to get a handle on all of this.” In the blink of an eye he was in front of Nina trying to stop her from walking away.

“But with her…it happened to her. Flipped her world upside down. And it’s not all cool blasts and wings or super speed. Her powers seem to only hurt people. She doesn’t want them to but they do. And that sucks. Can you even imagine how you would have turned out if your cool silver energy gave the people around you cancer? Crappy, right? All me and [Jeff are trying to do here is give her the chance to prove she is normal. Like us. That she can control this stuff. Shape it. Like we do. We just need info is all.”

Ninas eyes stopped glowing and her posture relaxed a bit.

“Yeah ok that sucks. I hear you. I get it. But I’m not going to break the law to help you, Reggie. The CW is super fun and you’re cool and all but no.”

Reggie smiled. “Then don’t break the law. Just ask for it. Tell them what you want and why you want it. You’re basically being groomed to follow in dad’s footsteps and you’ve proven time and time again that you’re super responsible and make good decisions. All that stuff the olds eat up. Nom nom nom. And that’s cool! Hell I’d kill for your discipline. Well not actually kill, but…anyway. Your dad sees his little girl trying to do some good in the world to help out a girl who just wants to feel normal. How can he say no? That’s hero stuff, Nina. Besides, a Charlene that could maybe control her powers and use them for good is someone I’d think AEGIS would rather have around.”

...and we put it there.

Most people think magic is all about belief and will; say a few words and wave your hands and it happens. It’s more about equations: measuring the amount of energy that you guide through proven methods to channel it to your desire. The hand-waving and words help with focus. So, I guess it’s more like physics, though the magic I was about to try WAS all about belief and will.

sharp intake of breath “It just works. It just works. It just works.”

Aaron lifts the lid on his MacBook. For the time being, his plea has been heard.

“Hey Dad,

Claremont is pretty awesome. I’m making friends, keeping up with studies, and doing the kind of things you talked about in COLLEGE, while I’m still in high school! Last night, we went over to a rival school and pulled some pranks. You always talk about liability, so I’ll just say that if business takes you near the Elysian Academy, hold your nose. ;)

I see that you and Mom are coming to visit in a couple of weeks. Hopefully I’ll get a chance to show you around, especially my SOLOROOM. That’s right, I had a roommate for all of a day before winning my own room. It’s pretty nice…not much bigger than the regular dorm rooms, but there’s only one of me in here, so it feels a lot bigger. I’d send a pic, but now I think I’ve talked it up enough that seeing it in person is the only way to go.

the screen goes momentarily dark before relighting

Anyway, gotta run. See you in 2 weeks!

—Aaron"

Send. Close lid. It just worked.Now, to glance over the OTHER correspondence I’m sending today…

“Master Maarten,

I hope this letter finds you well. I continue my studies at the Claremont Academy, which gives me ample reason and free rein to practice my craft. It is this practice that prompts this letter. While my training so far has been grounded, my assignments so far have presented challenges of a more vertical nature. I am well aware of the strictures imposed by the Scholars’ training regimen, and I am also aware that they can be waived in certain situations. I am hereby entering a petition for such a waiver to allow me to practice ahead of my path in the Schools of Passage, specifically apprentice-level flight and levitation. I trust that you will see my petition through to the Council.

Regards,
Aaron"

Satisfied with the request, I weave the obfuscation spell over the sealed envelope. Anyone intercepting this letter other than Master Maarten will find a lovely advertisement for vinyl siding.

standing, Aaron straigtens his new Windrider Cloak, picks up the letter, and strides for the door

"I understood that reference!"

So there’s a decent number of my fellow freshmen that haven’t seen…like anything. Kinda blows my mind how much we use pop culture references in normal conversation. And they get none of them. This…this needed to be fixed. Yesterday.

It’s been like 6 weeks now and we’ve had a meeting of the Claremont Cutlure Watchers (or The CW as Nina C. has been calling it) about every other day. I started things off with the classics. Stuff our parents watched when they were kids. The Goonies, The Breakfast Club, Labyrinth and Dark Crystal (HOLYCRAP did Violet and Alea lose their respective minds over those two). The Never Ending Story was thrown in becauseMr. Summers said it was the best thing ever to come out of the 80’s. I don’t think Nina W. was prepared for what happened in the Swamp of Saddness…

The rest of the faculty seems to have caught wind of what we are doing too. Ms. Harcourt insisted we watch Dexter’s Lab, so we did the whole retro Cartoon Network thing for a few nights. Mrs. Learner asked if we had done Harry Potter yet and Ms. Tuttle said we should do Starwars first and then went into this huuuuge monologue about what order to watch them in. I think we settled on Machete Order. She also promised to reserve a room for us and look into making this an officially sanctioned school club. Yay extra curricular activity? Even the upper classmen have started giving their two cents. I think we’ve got enough TV and movies to watch for the next 4 years for sure….

Most of the other CWers have just started watching stuff on netflix and youtube and whatever else they can get their hands on. I’ve started torrenting as much of the list as i can and just dumping it on dropbox for folk. The connection in this school is on point. Love me some fiber, man…dat speed, doh! Man even watching things at 30x speed, it’d take forever to get through all this.

I wonder if I can talk to Ms. Harcourt about just downloading all this stuff into people’s heads. Matrix style! Dad loved the Matrix. I saw him watching it one time and said “Oh hey cool he can do that thing i do!” and we spent the rest of the day with him shooting paintballs at me and watching me bullet time dodge with the High Speed camera. Man I miss him.

Any way, thanks for sending me here mom. Things are going awesome. You’re the best. I promise I’m actually studying too. Its not all screen time and free time.

Love You,
Reggie

P.S. WHOTHEHECKWRITESLETTERSANYMORE, MOM!? Ugh. This is going to take forever to get to you isn’t it? Uuuuuuuugh…snail mail…

"Who's the new kid?"

[This appears as though typed from an old-school typewriter. Then again, how do you thread a bound journal through a typewriter?]

I am. I am the new kid. After six weeks of doing my lessons abroad, what with Dad closing a deal in London for three of them (“You HAVE to see London, you love old stuff!”) and then the Alaskan cruise (“Fall’s the best time do see the Northern Lights, school be damned!”), I have finally arrived at the Claremont Academy. And oh, what a day it has been. Let’s see, what can I remember…

8:45am – Greeted at the gate by the Vice Principal. Great, I’m already in trouble…nope, she sympathizes as she’s got a daughter here. Wait, was that sympathy or a thinly veiled jab at my parents? Either way, I’m escorted to my dorm room and excused from classes for the day. I do remember signing up for some sort of outdoor “fun” event though. Hopefully that registration is still valid, as it’s a nice day for fall.

8:50am – Greeted at my dorm room door by my new roommate, Noah. Wait, why is he in his room? When do classes start around here? Is everyone excused today? Noah is certainly interesting. Feeling like I can cut loose a bit, I unpack my wardrobe from Elsewhere, letting my hold on the un-space lapse as I throw clothes and other sundries into a closet that I assume is mine. Noah’s had a few weeks with a room to himself, so he’s stretched out his boundaries. There’s no need to make a splash, so I go along with it.

1:30pm – Lining up with nine of my compatriots, we’re paired up and sent off in search of a flying key. Also, there are killer robots. Thankfully, we’ve got gimmicked jumpsuits to protect us. They are also gimmicked to change our appearance. My partner, Junior, a true hulk of a boy, makes himself up as Frankenstein’s monster. I go with Doctor Frankenstein to make a theme. A try-hard kid further down the line sees our theme and changes his costume to something in-theme with his partner too. There’s “fitting in” and there’s “biting style”.

2:00pm – I now trust approximately four of my classmates. When the coach’s whistle blew, five of them flat out attacked each other. Junior and I went for the key; having fifteen minutes to prepare goes a long way when you work with the Arts. What I’m told is the science building exploded, other students started interfering in our game, and someone was stomping around in a mechanical bear. “Casanova” is going to feel that hit tomorrow, jumpsuit or not. I threw a swimming pool onto a burning building. Six hours in and this is way better than middle school.

4:00pm – Returning to my former room, Noah isn’t there. Probably for the best. I turn my gym bag into an Elsewhere stash again with some quick words and re-pack, ready to move into my new room, won during the …race, I guess? Not wanting to run into Noah (how do you say you’re moving out of a room you spent a few minutes in without it looking bad?), I throw my mind toward my new doorstep, and in an instant, I’m there. I hope the ritual marks from my workings fade before Noah gets back. I’d hate for him to think I just moved in, drew some arcane symbols, and left.

8:00pm – Settled in, my gym bag is now a threadbare wreck. I’ll need another one. Note to self: ritually prepare mundane objects before forcing magic through them. However, I do have a room to myself. There’s enough space in here for a bed and desk along with a small working area. I figure I’ll spend the rest of my waking hours setting up that workspace. Maybe I’ll start work on one of those enchantment scrolls I picked up in London…

[The remainder of the page is filled with geometric doodles and runic words.]

Ghost Writer

The Initials “L.C.”
Nina always had a purposeful walk. Whether it was for appearance’s sake or a near boundless number of important things that need her attention was anyone’s guess. At the moment her purpose led her to the school’s chapel. She greeted Charlene, offering her a hello and a supportive smile masking the concern she had for the younger girl before sitting down in the dark corner of the Chapel.

“Mr. Cooper,” she said before remembering, “sorry, Twilight, you wanted to see me.”

Twilight stood for a long moment, staring out the window, then turned and reached into one of his pockets and retrieved the wreckage of what appeared to have once been a fancy watch. It wasn’t until he offered the damaged timepiece that she recognized its similarities to her father’s old A.E.G.I.S, watch. She examined the watch and realized why Twilight had asked her to meet in such a private location. “Rob…sorry, Twilight, I’m not sure where you got this watch, but this isn’t my father’s." Nina considering what to say next. “Your father, his name was Lawrence Cooper.” Twilight’s face was more of an impassive mask than usual.

Nina scrutinized the watch as the silence dragged on before she finally broke it with a sigh. “I should ask where you got this from, but I won’t. I think that this watch belongs to you.”

She gave the watch back to the freshman and sat silently with the younger man, a comforting arm around the smaller students shoulders, which were shaking—ever so slightly.